My latest original five-line poem, first inspired by the idea of a campfire and then I went somewhere went anatomy. Enjoy one of my favorite Tom Waits songs while you read it:
the campfire is dying
i stoke the campfire dying in my soul with your bones.
a metaphor exists in how quickly your ear ones ashed,
or how your fingers offered the most warmth, a smoky
echo of how you used to be, or how even in flames,
your hyoid bone speaks the language of leaving.
One thought