fire
From a deep sleep, in a wombOf insulation
The chill touches my nose
As if the wood burning stove is starving
For fuel, to keep things cozy
I place a few logs on
Now, staring at the flames
Hypnotic, inducing a trance
Watching figures dance
A warmth contained in an iron box
I am awake now
Cheeks gathering color
Warm pinks, blood flowing
Watching flames, too close
Absorbing heat from dancers, beckoning
I should sleep
But, the flames have arms
Reaching
Telling stories on silent nights
I listen to their soft songs, eyes glowing