Fireplace.(Poem)

 
FIREPLACE 
 
   Rolled-up newspaper balls, 
      like discarded drafts 
   of letters which overflow the wastebasket, 
      are placed on the bricks, 
   and then you weave 
      a version of that basket, 
   at first out of twigs 
      and then with ever larger sticks, 
 
   before touching a match 
      to the structure's foundation 
   and watching for flame 
      to spread like cruel rumours. 
   Soon the iron grate 
      is under occupation 
   from an upward-flowing 
      river of heat. Its humours 
 
   while it devours the earth, 
      air and moisture which adhere 
   to the logs you bring in 
      from the shed are changeable 
   as the moods 
      of any tyrant; it will spare 
   mere splinters while reducing 
      broad beams to ash. Able 
 
   to seem like a living 
      entity--the ancients 
   thought that life itself 
      was a flame, forever 
   burning inside us--in fact 
      it is death sentient 
   between the hearthstones. 
      Shapes appear: a ...