I Love Watching Logs Of Wood Burn

By Meghna Mallik

Once upon a time there was grass that spoke,

There was a cloud hung over;

And there were trees billowing as archers

Smoked boar out of the rusty rain.

I gave my weight to a board underneath,

The chimney beside wheezed for a hug;

There were plates in jolly rotation,

As were embers contemplating existence.

Shadows far away yawned over the windowsill,

The cloud had been christened off;

We stayed just as under as the sun had shied

When bagpipes cleared the willow’s fright.

I pressed my weight on a pillow of two,

Shut my Pride and Prejudice with her:

A photo no roast would dare quench,

Because its embers flickered her scent.

They say,

People leave as cold as they come;

I stay,

To watch logs of wood as they burn.

By Meghna Mallik