Uploaded August 2024 | Updated September 2026, 1 week ago

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11 Charcoal

If you’ve built a campfire,
There is a thing or two to know,
That you can bury it in dirt and mud,
Extinguishing the glow.

So now you have the fuel and heat,
But no oxygen to spare,
Triggering a chemistry,
That works without the air.

Then later when you dig it up,
And roll the mud wall back,
There’ll be a new thing buried there,
A new thing, but glossy black.

And so without knowing it,
Opening new doors,
I wonder if it will burn again,
Your imagination soars.

You roll the mid-night embers back,
In a private silent trance,
Picking out the biggest chunks of char,
Birthed in that fiery dance.

Your discovery now mounded up,
It is black and red and tame,
Hotter than it ever was,
But without the smoke and flame.

By now human nature’s back,
Sitting smugly on your shoulder,
I can never let this secret out,
At least till I get older.