Fire And Ice Poem by Faith Wood

Cling to the windows
like snow, like ice,
but never like fire
Creeping up the glass
on a mission to the roof
It's a fox,
sly and cunning,
only taking a brief pause
to feed upon its prey

And I tried to tell you so,
feed it, and it will grow.

But on and on
it hid from view,
like a fish in a lake-
the darkest quilts of water
is where they hide
So up and down
until its' body language
reads comfortable, safe
But never knowing what lies near

And I tried to warn you so,
feed it, and it will grow.

The heat sang a swan's song,
not like a jailed bird,
Free to cascade
from any nook if it pleases,
but the snow began to fall
as stars appear at night
and the fire, it seemed, was dying,
Slowly disentigrating,
but could it come back?

And I spoke only to tell you so,
feed the fire, and it will grow.