Pages

Tuesday, October 07, 2014

Hearth


 
Like inevitable decay
Upon unfuelled hearth
The last embers wink out
All is spent and cold comes
Flames of youth faded
And the poker of reverie
Stirs fortune's ashes
That cannot be rekindled
Till all is sifted to ash
And we are at last
Whales of summer
Beaching shingled shore