Faye Sizemore

PAPER LOGS

My poems are as paper logs
burning at night… ever so bright
… giving off a protective light
I need words… many words
that fall in rhyme or prose
to keep away those disposed
to prowl outside my understanding
I need phrases… many phrases
To feed this fire… keep it alight
… built against the night
Wolves are in the darkness
Wolves that may devour me
… if the fire is left to die
Under the moon… in the night sky…
they throw back their heads
… and in the moonlight… cry
they cry for the joy of the hunt
and for their victim… It is… I…
the chosen one of their aims
The only rescue is in the flames…
burning brightly against the night
and as in a fevered dream… I write…