Primeval Of All Flame

The fire licks like a red dog at your boot And I can only marvel that you tame A thing so savage and essential at its root Back down to the primeval of all flame. Soot pictures on the walls time out of mind Scratched out by hands as sudden as bird claws No clock records the moment when unsigned The sun walked barbarously across those flaws. I might have been the woman of that cave From whom you captured day in stick and stones Blowing your breath on crimson coals to save The wonder of that last light on her bones. Then afterwards when darkness filled the room There would be hieroglyphics on the tomb.