Friendly Fire

Dad poked embers
And set fire flies loose in the garden
The evenings entertainment
As pressed noses smudged glass
We weren’t allowed to touch
Barely four feet tall
With so much to learn
The fire was a siren calling
so I sneaked out when daddy had gone
Just a few minutes I thought
To prod the glowing form
Of branches cut and orange thorns defeated.

Burning pyre I ducked under wire
And my wellington tyres got warm
such the strength of fire
Temptation of the bonfire bin
Dad had punched windows in a rusting drum
And from this I watched the insects come
alive
snapshots of the flaming fun inside
in holes I thought
I had to put my hands in there.
parents words are not enough
I must convince my mind’s pulsating push
To learn, to feel to hurt
To cry to fall, to blister and flirt an outstretch hand
My way.

So with metal glowing shards
Here comes an instant retard reflex
A singeing, stinging complex of pain
curiosity complete
down garden path retreats a scream
there is no friendly fire!
Dad’s wire has its purpose clearly shown
The rubber whellies flop on feet
Kick grass piles freshly mown
In defeat
bawling tears
took a chance with fire.