The Fire In The Window. Poem by PAUL COLVIN

The Fire In The Window.



The scuttle brush and shovel hide
Discreetly by the fireside
So rich and fierce as flames attack
Lunging forward curling back
Feisty flames in an autumn fire
But always one is shooting higher,
Spitting sparks into the black
Soot that clings so thick to stack.
The logs and coals are halfway done,
A molten glow, a searing sun,
This welcome sight has warmed the street
And warms the bones as people greet
From far away you see its glow
Blue, orange, gold and yellow
Reflecting off the window panes
We see it shake in teeming rains
But on a night as still as this
A glowing shimmer, call it bliss.
A dry cold night you start to shiver
But then you see the flames aquiver
You’re drawn to this liquid light
On this cold and wintry autumn night
Your body’s numb, you feel the freeze
And fingers, joints, start to seize
Rubbing hands to ease the pain
And stamp your feet to keep you sane
Your eyes transfixed onto the light
A warm, engulfing, welcome sight
With flailing arms slap your back
As you head down this street so black
You’re edging closer, closer still
The lights bounce off the window sill
Your heart is racing, beating fast
Cheeks are red, just like your past
A beaming smile lights the night
As you accept this fire tonight.

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