Embers And Ashes

The heat of the fireplace sinks into cheeks

reddened by the blaze of the purest type of heat -

Memories of fires past flicker like the flame.

A big campfire in the absence of California sun,

The night the bears came and people yelled, 'Run!',

giving Mama and me a special moment under stars,

whispering softly and returning the moon's gaze.

My cheeks get hotter from sitting to close to the hearth,

My memory shifting to another of mirth,

My daughter on my mama's lap watching a bonfire dance,

Being tickled by my now passed-on Aunt's land.

Fireside memories shape my mind,

The scent, the sound, the feel, the burn.

I have a dozen memories for each in turn.

I remember being so small and warm in Mama's embrace.

The embers of the dying fire my sleepy escape.

Now as Autumn comes in like a cooling breeze,

I prepare for Winter's harsh and frigid freeze.

When my children think of winter or autumn nights,

I hope they remember the joy our hearth ignites.

And each and every dawn of a new day,

The fire will fizzle, pop and fade.

A fire never burns the same way twice -

but the heat will always bring back the memories of life.