He sleeps,
ashes fallen against the sheets
from the cigarette
between his teeth
that he grinds as he breathes
and the fire warms the bed and licks his feet
like a loving old cat
and he dreams

heat waves off the meridian
the green, and saltgentle ocean
back at home, and mother’s song,
and that fire, the fire
that burned down the barn
and every living thing within

he wakes, he is old
and the flames are red
he had asked to have his body cremated
and he thinks of the old church,
and the pastor who told him
God was all
And patted him on the head

thinks of his children
and the rooms they left behind
wonders if anyone would hear him
if he said he’d changed his mind
then he thinks only
the fire
and the wind that will blow him
today back into the sea