I sort of started this whirl in the morning over a nice cup of tea and it went nowhere. But then got on with my day of errands and running around and by the time I got back to it, it was late afternoon and Chloe said, “mom, it’d be nice to have a fire tonight.” and then that was that, the whirl became all about the fire.
How does that happen? Thank you to Brenda for the manageable words this week.
habits, create, however, virtue, regard, gap,
cycle, undoing, lessen, choice, gathering, suffering
You regard the virtue inside the cardboard rectangle that fits in so nicely in your hand.
Smooth edges turning between your fingertips, sandpaper rough against the soft parts of your palm, inside holding torches, slides in and out and in and out, its one function: to light your fire
Lessen the load by one wooden stick. That familiar cycle, strike and spark, ignite, flicker, flame, burn.
Smell of sulphur, of smoke, of late nights in a cabin full of candle shine, gathering twigs and pine cones that sizzle and pop.
Of nights in the ashtray of a hotel bar. Of stick after stick, smoke after smoke blending in the hazy grey.
Of habits in pockets, creates excuses for names and numbers, lives in the junk drawer in your house, measures your choice and suffering, lets you know where you’ve been, where you might go again.
A carbon copy waiting inside the chamber holding fire, sliding in and out and in and out, now it appears in your hand to strike, split-second gap, then ignite and burn, sizzle, pop, hiss, choke, sulphur smoke.
Do it again
However, that is your undoing.