The heat of my youth
is as faraway now
as winters
that burned
in the hearth,
the flames
that once tickled my senses
splutter and cough
in the dark,
I used to see dreams
in the firelight
that smouldered
with promise and hope
but they cooled
with the wait
and when
it was too late
they drifted away
with the smoke.
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 1:58 AM UTC
The heat of my youth
is as faraway now
as winters
that burned
in the hearth,
the flames
that once tickled my senses
splutter and cough
in the dark,
I used to see dreams
in the firelight
that smouldered
with promise and hope
but they cooled
with the wait
and when
it was too late
they drifted away
with the smoke.
