100 DAYS OF POETRY: DAY 62 - Wildfires
Wildfires
By Stephen Martin
Sometimes the boiling point I think I need to express should stay simmering until the heat is turned off and the water reaches room temperature. I know this. Especially, when little ears are drawn to my masculine rage like mice to cereal.
It is in these moments that I need a strategy. I need a blanket I can throw over my heart's flames long enough that when I uncover it again it is cool to the touch. Because if it does not return to dormancy and instead carries a hint of heat it will inflame all over again.
This strategy needs to be made for two. Because even if I am able to get my conflagration under control. Wildfires spread.
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HHMMM. This was a very unorthodox approach. These words, few they may be, speak volumes and in my case, I would say they touched a rage as opposed to a nerve.
Yes, rage.
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