A Winter Morning


it started small
an idea
a project
a match

soon the flames could not be contained

from kindling to logs
it roared and grew

each fresh sheaf of paper
crumpled and pitched
at its burning heart
extended its margins
until the raging orange
began to lick beyond the stone box and metal door
to the mantel wood
than mocha walls and freshly painted ceiling

still she stood
fists full of reports
and assessments
neatly checked boxes and gray graphs
used to justify investment
and calculate worth

as the smoke alarms blared
in trilling sequence
she took a deep breath of thick air
coughed and smiled
as the words by her feet ignited

her work
finally complete


NaPoWriMo Day 5


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