“fire at midnight”
i believe in fires at midnight —
when the dogs have all been fed.
a golden toddy on the mantle —
a broken gun beneath the bed.
silken mist outside the window.
frogs and newts slip in the dark —
too much hurry ruins the body.
i’ll sit easy … fan the spark
kindled by the dying embers of another working day.
go upstairs … take off your makeup —
fold your clothes neatly away.
me, i’ll sit and write this love song
as i all too seldom do —
build a little fire this midnight.
it’s good to be back home with you.