Flames from the past
crackle on the screen
to make you feel at home.
There is no way it warms you up,
but it does. The orange waves
tap into the part of you
that still wants to live in a cave
and talk about wild berries
and meat on the bone.
The logs died God knows when
but I get to watch it over and over
and imagine you holding
a marshmallow over them, cracking
that smile I tell everyone about
when I’ve had a couple of beers.

© Carl Burkitt 2021