The other day up at camp,
I was dreaming of a life powered by fire.

One where fire would just be
part of my every day existence,
not just walled off as a weekend activity
up at camp.

One where most everything you
did would ultimately result in fire,
where no chore would really be a chore.

Where you’d cut your own firewood,
and chop it, stack it, all
in preparation for it to be burned.

You’d add more wood to the outdoor wood furance,
and build fires every night in the wood stove
to keep things toasty warm.

Matches and lighters would be as much
a part of life,
as a light switch or thermostat in the house.

Even cleaning the house is fun,
noticing all the trash you’ve
collected up to burn.

Taking out the trash sure would be fun,
lighting off some paper,
smelling that pungent smoke,
as the discarded milk bottle burns.

I sure look forward,
to someday living in the country,
and having as many fires as a so desire
everyday …