The flames snap while golden shadows dance;
off hardwood floors and walls of rustic adornment.
As burning logs shift, sparks explode;
mini fireworks cascade into glowing embers.
Smoke drifts through the chimney flue;
evening air the ambiance of a Northwoods campground.
A snowy tread blankets frozen turf;
warm sounds of a crackling John Denver record.
“Lie there by the fire and watch the evening tire;”
while stories and visions decide to hang around like cordwood stacked against the spruce out back.
I dream of life, the world of fish, teaching, and my old bike;
documenting words struggle to leap from my pencil’s tip.
Soon enough sentences will escape and take shape I’m sure;
while time flits and flutters away at Mach speed - hurtling faster than sound and my comfort.
It’s hard to hang on if not for family, friends, laughter, and interludes;
watching flames snap while golden shadows dance.
See you along The Way…
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