Ember

Another fire shrinks to an atom.
Another moment ends
in the soles of my feet.
I climb into my heart
and pull its blanket over my chills.

My second child
had her first birthday today.
Over time, the day will turn
to ash in a carpet
uncurling on a doorstep repeatedly,
over calloused knees,
and disappear into the breeze.

I cursed the work, silently.
I was late to her party.
I arrived, and there was she:
Bouncing to the music
Holding a look of pure, engaged glee -
The loveliest sight her dad could see.
Her baby face reflected in me.

The poker can do nothing for the wood
that lies as dead as ancient bones.
I close the door and leave.
An ember burns in me.