Fire

Fire,

my element,

with an early start,

sending my sisters out

to fetch the kindling,

bringing it to life,

in our white painted fireplace.

 

I start fires still,

early each morning,

rousing the coals with air

and fine shavings,

leaving it stoked,

these days so cold,

the walls of this old house,

retaining

whatever temperature has more sway:

I make sure

it is heat.

 

Fire,

my element.

One I understand,

and fear,

and rise each day

to tend

in winter.

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