“Pyre”
by Bill Ward
1999
I want to take these things before me
And build a funeral pyre
And dance around it playing a drum
As the flames grow higher.
Atop the conflagration sits
My hopes for a secure life
A sensible home in a good neighborhood
With an SUV for my wife.
When the ashes have settled,
When the smoke is gone,
I’m not so sure that I will like
What remains when all is done.
I have my doubts, as I stand
With match and box poised to strike
If I light this fire I may create
Something I do not like.
I heave a sigh and put away
My incindiary tool
And with a letter opener I reach for a piece
Of my pyre’s fuel
© 1999 William R. Ward
All Rights Reserved
December 13, 1999
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