Under a night sky of velvet,
My campfire’s gone out.
Nothing but charred wood
And ash that is
Cold and velvety to the touch.
I have nothing
To resurrect the dead flames.
The moon hides behind dirty cotton
Dropping darkness on me
Like a boulder.

I remember there used to be sun.
The blue sky filled with life.
Birds darted back and forth,
Playing tag.
The forest around me, breathed.
Rabbits, wearing brown, velvet coats
Emerged from the underbrush,
Looking for green.
The warm wind embraced me,
And fondled the trees,
Their green velvet foliage
Surrendered to invisible fingers.

I lifted my face to the sun.
Felt his warm kiss
On my eyelids,
My cheeks,
My lips,
My neck.
A parting caress down my arm.
Before he sank out of sight,
And left me in cold, velvet night.

Now, not even the moon will touch me.
He runs from cloud to cloud.
A thief stealing his own soft light.
The wind’s sobbing
Is the only sound I can hear.
Or is that me?
When will he rise
From the comatose horizon?
When will he take his shining scissors
And cut away the black velvet
He surrounded me with?

Finally,
Before the velvet suffocates me,
I rise from my dead campfire
And gather fuel
For a fire that may never burn again.
I sit and rub two sticks together.
Why won’t they form a spark?

I lift my face to the sky
And feel nothing
But soft and dead velvet.


 
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