In honor of the weather finally beginning to warm up here, I'm posting a poem that I wrote while camping last summer.

Flicker, dance, die.

Flames of Yellow, Orange,

Purple and Blue;

Intriguing me, they

Flirt with the

Logs.

Life and fire: two

Similar things.

Faintly beginning,

Spreading, growing!

Never the same, always

Changing-- surprising!

Catching your

Eye enough that you

Take a second

Glance.

Sometimes it shall be

Warmed with

Love.

Other times

Grief will

Dim the

Flames and leave you

Groping in the

Dark.

But the embers

Glow and will soon

Burst back to

Life and

Burn brilliantly

Again.

And when final

Death claims it, and

Ashes are all that

Remains; there is still its

Mark left

Behind.

Flicker, dance, die.