One man’s art

The match lights.

The newspaper sparks immediately —
the flame matching the intensity 
of the ink passionately spread through
a dozen stories — and dissolves into ash.

The infant flame crawls onto twigs.

I stand mesmerized by this transmutation:
words once poured over by anxious writers
now spilled into a fire as kindling, sweat 
burning into memories I’ve already forgotten.

The winds shift.

I rearrange the sticks to assist their demise,
wondering how many revisions — how many 
editors’ notes — were born before the news 
fanned out to a half awake audience.

The flames leap from twigs to logs.

I stare transfixed at the graceful movement
of the blaze (so gorgeous as it spasms
on this log, then another) effortlessly 
transforming timber into trifling confetti.

I find it poetic. 

My stomach screams an idea, an ephemeral epiphany 
I must immediately share for art’s sake,
enthusiastically published on pulp
and eventually catalyst for another fire.

Phillip Knight Scott | © 2019

Written for V.J.’s Weekly Challenge #69: Kindle and Ragtag Daily Prompt: Scream.

Published by Phillip Knight Scott

My name is Phillip. I am a Tar Heel born and bred and watch every Yankees game I can. I'm still searching for my own TARDIS. My first novel, "The Alien in the Backseat," is available now!

18 thoughts on “One man’s art

  1. What an inspired write! All we are, create, eventually turns to ash. As I read, I thought of my first novel, written for my grade 8 English teacher – months of sleepless nights, toiling – accolades in the end – and then I burnt it, watching the pages and words transmute.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I love this. Having lived in the Maine woods over 30 years back in the not
    too distant past, we had plenty of brushfires to clear trails and such. I’ve been a writer all my life, and I am ashamed to say none of these things ever occurred to me. But they surely will now! Well done.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Powerful and exquisite writing, as always–my fave pick: “words once poured over by anxious writers
    now spilled into a fire as kindling, sweat
    burning into memories I’ve already forgotten”…

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I love the isolation of certain lines, drawing focus. There was something quite moving about the line ‘The Winds Shift’.


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