Epiphany of fire

These fine leaves fallen

from the cabbage trees

bunched into the rusted drum,

yellow-brown-grey and hopefully dry

engulf a weak confused curl

of barely escaping smoke

as leaf filaments glow and smoulder

from just one match.

The dull edge of a dark day

waits with me in cold vigil

awaiting a cremation

of events not grieved

but with time to ruminate out back

by that degrading iron drum

when with sudden flare

an epiphany of fire

bursts brightly through

the crackling discards

melting me into smile.