Embers

Embers...

The fireplace glows a faint red
through the ashes of a life
well lived.

As she straightens up, she notices
the embers and smiles
thinking about her life
with him in it.

Reminiscing the years
she notices with pleasure
the imagery in her mind.
Early on, the fumbling attempts of communicating
the meeting of the flame, the match
with the tender.
he asked, she said, she asked
trying to find a spot
where the connection would be made.
And then
slowly for a moment
and then faster
and faster
the communication, the relationship grew
out of either's control
becoming an inferno of colors
the reds of passion
the yellows of caution
greens of envy
and the blues of sadness
which are the lives of every man and woman
beautiful to watch
impossible to understand
when you're in the middle.

The fire settles down
to become the manageableness of life
no longer out of control
no longer providing the HEAT of the early moments
but providing warmth,
comfort,
and knowing.

And she thinks of him again,
the passion of the fire of their youth
and she places some small twigs and a log or two
next to the fireplace
hoping he'll notice
and build the fire
again.