Tuesday, January 24, 2006

Hearth

Match, paper, twigs
hot gases dance
off good prairie poplar
and a thread of smoke
rises from the fire
stinging my nose just so.
These dry cured logs
burn to nothing
too hot and too fast
popping yellow flames
not like the even solid coals
of hard eastern oak and maple
nor so aromatic
as sweet coastal cedar
but tightwoven nevertheless
through all of my dreams
bittergreen, elemental
scent of home.

6 comments:

fingers said...

Wonderful...
(does your nose sting because yu're a mythical coyote?)

coyote said...

That would be it. I have a very sensitive, twitchy kind of nose....

C said...

I could use a good fire right now. It's chilly here. Love this piece, and I can almost smell the smoke...

coyote said...

Me too. It's been too long. What kind of wood would you be burning in those parts, if you were burning it?

C said...

Pine. And I do love the smell burning pine...

coyote said...

So do I... I used to live close enough to the Rockies that we'd get some of that, and the smoke would scent you for what seemed like days...