Campfire (day 2257)

Campfire is my tool tonight
Warmth from evenings bite
Fuel for cooking suppers worth
And entertainment to watch
Flames licking exposed wood
Yet untouched by char
Coals shifting, popping
Gathering underneath
The hottest part,
Eager to grow ever closer
To other matching embers
And edging me evermore
To fuel my campfire tonight.

On the Run (day 2256)

I am an outlaw on the run
Hear my voice see my gun
Find new horses at every ranch
River is my daily refresh.

Each night campfire is not lit
Though I lament not having warmth
A bedroll isn’t much sense
One eye open all night long.

I am an outlaw on the run
I hear coyotes calling every night
Starlight is my campfire light
Moon is my memory of home.

Mountain paths take me forever on
Guided by the sun
Constant watch for food that moves
I am an outlaw on the run.

Fire Making (day 2251)

There’s nothing quite like starting a fire
From the very kindling you’ve gathered
Shaved flakes of fresh wood
Because woodsmen don’t use paper
To start their fires.
Each piece of wood weighed and measured
To match each flames intensity
For in its time that fire shall get
A new piece as its fuel.
Handling an axe isn’t a light days work
It’s sharp, and heavy,
And you’ve really got to swing it hard
I you want any work done at all,
For your fire to get nice and tall.
Then as night sets in, darkness itself,
Warmth from your toil and support
Comes bellowing out
In calculated intensity
From within the fire you’ve set
And worked as a good night beacon.