Flames fought to reach the burning sky
As the wanderer watched
Reflections of hungry fire danced
On the water in the bottom of his pail
The scent of smoke carried him
Back to his childhood
The day his first home burned down
He looked up at the flames and saw it all again
The smoke was swirling, crying, “Run.”
Longing tasted like smoke, how was that?
The fire laughed and he closed his eyes
Let it burn, let it burn...
When he opened them the house was
Burned to the ground...
Smoldering, crumbled walls
Now he was gray like the fog
He smiled and set the bucket down
The water sloshed over the sides and trickled
Into the dry and thirsty ground
He threw his coat over his shoulder
Walked into the desert without a backward glance
That house had never been his home
Fire couldn’t take a thing
From a wanderer like him