There and There
(and back again)
The moon is blue
The sky beyond is bluer
I wish I knew a torchy song to sing
Something that might work
In a film noir
Or at the halfway point
In a musical revue
But in a time of hobbits and
Of elves, this night might
Be converted into singing,
Storytelling of another kind
With fires sparked
By magic and with other, eldritch lights,
With fire in the eyes
Of those who trill laments
Of epic heroes lost so long ago
But, sigh,
We are in the backyard
On some chairs,
Cast-off lumber from a project
In the pit
And there are sticks
For cooking marshmallows
And maybe we don’t sing
Except for little choruses, here and
There
With no lament except
Too soon we will have eaten,
The fire will have mostly
Died, our extinguishing the rest
The best next thing we’ll do
Is sleep
C L Couch
Photo by Holger Link on Unsplash
Fire Pit
April 20, 2020 at 12:45 pm
I love the whole stanza about sitting by the fire, I can picture and feel it all. And I love this especially: “maybe we don’t sing / Except for little choruses, here and / There” And then that final stanza wraps up the night, and the next best thing is sleep. Life simplified, and magical in its own way. 🙂
April 20, 2020 at 10:31 pm
Thank you for such close and encouraging reading! Life simplified and magical–that’s exactly what I was after in the writing!