The Fire's Burning

The fire’s burning
Old tin cans
And plastic jugs
That melt themselves
On printed words
Of magazines
To speak a tale
And light the mood.

The fire’s burning
Ancient wood
And dried-up leaves
That crackle whispers
Of the mysteries that
Darkness holds
But won’t reveal.

The fire’s burning
Dead possessions,
Toys and dolls
Crying for lost owners
Through their blackened,
Muffled, voice boxes.

The fire’s burning
Down the house
Through the walls
And onto beds…

But no one’s there.

.