Eternal Flame

In a rocky cleft

beneath the willows,

burns a quavering blue flame

that I alone must tend,

arcing my body into a canopy

when the rain pelts

or smothering snow falls.

In all weathers I must feed the fire

scraps of paper, broken pencils,

and fingernails torn as I scratch and claw

through the bricklike clay of my spirit,

hardened by years of rejection,

yet fertile still when gently watered.

Dig through unyielding earth for

wood chips, abandoned cardboard,

any and all refuse

that might feed this insatiable muse,

my burden,

my calling,

my obedience.