Playing with FireA Poem by Pete“The fire is the main comfort of the camp, whether in summer or winter, and is about as ample at one season as at another. It is as well for cheerfulness as for warmth and dryness.” - ThoreauHell's bonfire and Heaven's inferno. Don't need no Sterno. Beelzebub's bellows and the Almighty's alms. Spreading lies and love. Rubbing sticks together. Striking a match. Fanning flames with crooked, arthritic fingers. Stoking truth and promises. Signals in the plumes. Breathing creation's fumes. Running from death. Completely out of breath. Knocking at the door. Reaching out for more. Burning bushes in the wilderness. Speaking out like little black books. Even lightning joins the fun. Never striking twice though. More sticks. More tricks. Giant fix. Hell's angels and Heaven's cherubs flicking lighters. Tossing their lit cigarettes. Smoked down to the filters of heart's desire. Doubt's sparks flying and faith's embers glowing. Never quite knowing. Which one's the liar? ... Playing with fire ... © 2018 PeteAuthor's Note
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1 Review Added on September 30, 2018 Last Updated on October 4, 2018 AuthorPeteBoston, MAAboutI love reading, writing, music, nature, God and feeling emotion, not necessarily in that order. To me, these things go hand in hand. My favorite writer is Henry David Thoreau. I think he was a geni.. more..Writing
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