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Hello readers, faithful followers and minions!

Next up is my very first submission for my Intro to Creative Writing Class. Enjoy!

Submitted Version

Firelight

 

You sit in the living room, bent over your books
Fingers meshed in your ruffled, too-long hair.
The light of a fire   coaxed from small twists
Of newspaper, dead leaves, twigs, and pinecones
Stolen away from distant worlds
Of woods and rock and earth and water,
Creeks flowing to rivers and thus to oceans
Far from home, that fire blazes
In an old soup pot set on a trivet
To keep its heat from the scarred, stained carpet.
Lightning blasts and thunder crashes
Outside our humble window.
You look up at me and smile.
“Wakeful again?”
Thunder booms. I squeak.
“Come here.”
You wrap the faded afghan around my shoulders,
We two pilgrims in a world unknown.
Your pale wings protect me
Cast around me to keep a world at bay for now,
Safe.

Okay, so that was the final version. But the original poem had more lines and I just had to choose the best section. Here’s the full poem! Be forewarned, it’s much longer.

Pale wings are spread above where I sleep
As if I don’t remember at any other time
Except when I dream, but
I do.
It would be so easy to forget.
I still remember.
It hurts and yet comforts me.
A memory:

You sit in the living room, bent over your books
Fingers meshed in your ruffled, too-long hair.
The light of a fire   coaxed from small twists
Of newspaper, dead leaves, twigs, and pinecones
Stolen away from distant worlds
Of woods and rock and earth and water,
Creeks flowing to rivers and thus to oceans
Far from home, that fire blazes
In an old soup pot set on a trivet
To keep its heat from the scarred, stained carpet.
Lightning blasts and thunder crashes
Outside our humble window.
You look up at me and smile.
“Wakeful again?”
Thunder booms. I squeak.
“Come here.”
You wrap the faded afghan around my shoulders,
We two pilgrims in a world unknown.
Your pale wings protect me
Cast around me to keep a world at bay for now,
Safe.

Now, I am cold.
Rain beats the window
Alone.
Are you living or do you lie dead
Alone
Beneath the ground or on your battlefield
Unburied
Among the many others   faceless, slain?
Or are you dying, even?
Would I go to you, if I could?
I don’t know.

Your elfin face did not change.
You are the one who never grew up.
You are so far from me.
You knew the secret of flight
And still hover over me
Like some shadow out of the past.

You still are not there, but
I am enshrouded in your pale shelter of wings.

Okay, explanation time!

I was thinking of Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin/Vader when I wrote this. I’ve always been curious about how Vader thought about Obi-Wan, if ever he thought about Obi-Wan at all, and what Obi-Wan and Anakin’s earliest days were like. That’s the inspiration that led to this poem. Hopefully you all enjoyed it! Thanks for reading, and God Bless!