Feeding the fire,
With my breath,
I admire,
What’s left,
I’ve whispered,
A single word,
It warmed the fire,
But not for long,
I dropped,
Gently,
A lumber,
Wooden tender,
I stepped forward,
And gazed upon my word,
Black smoke emerged,
Covering the shadows,
But shortly after,
Came the fire,
Small, Then tall,
It needed lumber,
I gave it all,
What it needed,
That’s all,
But I felt more,
I too had a need,
To feel further,
I lusted danger,
I really did,
I stepped into the fire,
To sit on a burning lumber,
I smiled then smoked,
To feel the flames.
Luc Laverdure