First Fire

First Fire

Someone sat near a fire

and just flat out liked it.

Maybe the weather had

turned cold.

They may have picked up a 

stick and tossed it on,

watched the flare

as the fire took

hold.

My first fire

was in the family lounge

stretched out on a small red rug

with a black cat

purring.

As a teen

with dad, uncle and cousins

setting fire to gorse bushes

on the hillside

over where the sheep ran wild.

In the Himalayas

as a Volunteer,

at a dzong

during a festival,

where super-hot oil

and sawdust

were thrown 

up into the night sky,

exploding

in flame

in the bonfire

with a rush of 

heat.

and tonight

as I light the first 

fire of the 2012

autumn

the

first fire

handed down

father to son.