Saturday, January 27, 2024

hearthside

my obituary burns
torn into tendrils
tinder to light the hearth
the flames move
consuming kindling
birch logs ignite

this old ghost sits
warm in the fire glow


9 comments:

  1. Oh, I love this! And I'm guessing that it reflects that fact that you in the Northern Hemisphere are deep in winter just now.

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  2. Stay warm, Ollie. I am, too. I love your poem and can see you in the closing lines. Here we are now expecting heavy rains and possible flooding.

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  3. I have given your poem a lot of thought ... interpreting it as the obit you composed for your "After I'm Gone" (for family and the requisite announcements) YOU, not being close to READY, have tossed it into the fireplace.

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  4. Oops, Olie, looks like you've lived another year, but the ghost was ready. Must write a new obit.
    ..

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  5. I like your play on words as they jostle up against each other.... torn, tendrils, tinder, kindling...and your final two lines are very ice.

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  6. The ghost sits warm with contentment? I think so. Content with the life he is living so well. Content with a poem well written

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  7. Rall left a message on the P&SU blog that she is unable to leave you a comment here. (Google playing up again.) I told her I would let you know, in case you don't see that one.

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  8. Love this, Ollie, especially the old ghost sitting by warm glow.

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  9. So many interpretations in the comments - sign of a good poem! I'm reading it as life moving on and the dead narrator comforted by watching it go... ??

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