For so many years I felt the pull of the fires in my head
until the years drew them down to my chest
and then to my gut where they pushed me out to new fields
where blood fed the corn and we stood our ground
for the sake of family and for the joy of brotherhood's embrace.

In more recent times the fires have bled down,
fed into my hips and my knees, causing me to slow,
to sit and spend time passing on my story
to younger hearts who may dodge the spills and stumbles
and steer themselves to whiter fields and perhaps sow happier times.

Perhaps they will,
but I'll tell them -
the fires remain.