A gust of Wind that stokes a candle and giggles as it falls;
It watches with pride as all that it dried burns alongside the aged walls.
It dances around the blazing structure with the grace of a whale in the deep,
And escapes through the window, with the flames, it creeps, it creeps, it creeps.
Onward to the next abode where lies the wind’s newest prey,
It whispers softly, “Nice to meet you,” as flames bite the shrubs that lay.
As it crawls closer to the open door, it’s perplexed by a shriek of fear;
Clear and direct as it was, the cries don’t linger in Wind’s ear.
Ignoring the protest, it carries the blaze to the siding of the home,
And the smell of burnt paint fills the untouched rooms where so much of life had grown.
Mercilessly, it invites itself in and with it, ushers in the fire.
To anyone other than Wind, themself, the situation would appear dire.
But Wind disregards all that it destroys as it welcomes the fire to a meal,
It serves up a bed, old books, old toys, to sweeten up the deal.
The fire keeps feeding its bottomless belly as Wind swims through the halls.
This time they needn’t touch this candle,
They just watch and giggle as it falls.