Sunday, 10 April 2011

Bonfire in a bin

Hungry arms lick the bin
And I think for a minute that they reach for me
To pull me in,
Climbing up the wood,
Spitting sparks in spite
The planks ignite.
It hates me, I think.
I watch in wonder at the brightness,
Fire flung in fury, cursing my name
The same flame that killed countless of my kind, kept many alive too.
Destruction is its duty
And I am duly consumed by its beauty.

1 comment:

  1. Love those last two lines. The flow is smooth, but pensive, reflecting the tone well. Nice work.