Question on the Mountain
John Miatech

Pine stumps burn well here,
Just a touch of oily black smoke drifts into the cool night air
Above tree-line

The fire leaps about the circle of granite rocks,
Wood turning black and then grey under yellow flames
While the heart of the fire glows red
Among the deep embers

Am I the same, slowly burning away,
While my heart, strong and red,
Beats deeply within me,
Until my body becomes grey ash,
And my spirit
Drifts off?