Solitude and flame

A poem

Silence, and yet

The night is alive

Wind weaves through the tops

Of barren forrest towers

A decent bet

Of light rain showers

And me?

What I’ve got to give

I so easily forget

Hot coals burn white

A flame I started

A privilege used

Lighter and dryer lint

My fire alight

I have this one stint

Alone

My muse departed

Tonight, we will reunite