we were two
sticks rubbing,
creating heat
that 4th ,
igniting sparks
while far-away
flames danced
over serene
hills, charring
golden grasses,
blackening trunks
of venerable oaks
a fortnight later
I came to that land
swept clean,
all of us
starting over—
you & me,
oaks & grasses,
finding our way
into a fresh world
ripened by
heat & light
&, yes,
love


A wonderful poem filled with both threat and love. Great job!