You pulled a branch from the
Fire we’d built and handed it to me,
Your eyes ablaze. I was sure
I’d seen this before.
Accepting it from you, I couldn’t
Help but feel that I was burning
Myself to stop you burning.
Off you walked into the water as
I replaced the branch on the pyre,
Deeper this time and with more
Intention.
I knew that soon that branch would
Be ash and would need replacing with
Another.
I knew that neither of us would
Let that fire die, that we’d have to
run out of firewood first.
Sam Huddlestone 