Woodsmoke

I’m nearly happy

How oddly my ungreased wheels

Leave worn out tread marks in my turf

Soon there will be the smell of wood smoke

And then I will rest

Happiness lurks in the corners

Of my heart

Where once it burned in the nickel of my core

My core is cold

But once I drove home

On a rim

And metal on sand

Sends out sparks

That can ignite the possibility of joy

In another time and place

Old women hold fire in their hands

And have learned to breathe the impossible

Into life

I have the spark

I just need to find my kindling

And then...who knows that new tracks I will make.