Campfires Smoking

 Campfires Smoking

I sit by my simple yurt by the sea,
and light a campfire at dawn,
against the cold,
and just be.

Sitka Spruce Forest
all around—
smoking campfire
on cold wet ground.

Do the pines daydream?
     feeding logs
     into the campfire flames.

Splitting dry kindling,
damp December day—
     wind chimes tinkling.

Wet pine logs—
     campfire smoke
     in our eyes

Gathered around
the campfire's light—
     very chilly night.

Crackling campfire
pops and sparks—
     keeping ghosts away 

Campfire embers,
fading reds—
    time for bed.

Memories of Pacific Coast Places
Snapshots and Snippets
Highway 101 and 1
By Michael P. Garofalo