Memory

Homage to my Glow.

Matches fire below.

Dry tinder gathers at my feet,

I do not feel any defeat.

Sparks fly around my Head,

my mind is still in bed.

I do not feel any dread,

cinders burn the air straight through,

setting up a whole new groove.

Wind blows the smoke, please, please,

don't choke.

The breath you smell is that of life.

The storm may rage!

The rain may pore!

The bolt of lightning may decline,

but thunder rumbles in this time.

So, be Steadfast,

don't hold back,

the site of impending Doom!

The gloomy days are here to say,

the clouds,

they need some room.

They must disperse because it hurts

to be so full of gloom.

The Thunder Heads are just ahead

and threaten them so soon.

The trees report,

the bushes broom,

the grass prepares the way.

A stair may be good for me along this feral way.

The downward spiral sees.

Don't freak out, I'm almost out 

of all my memories.

K.A.P.

5/3/2009