He spoke of the menace of ‘embers of Corona’
when coupling with flu in a joined force.
I thought of his use of the word embers
as a very inappropriate metaphor
and wished he’d stripped this hideous topic
of any aesthetic discourse.

The word is redolent in memory with beauty and hope.
When a child, I watched the embers of our fireplace
fade into a heap of paling gold.
Every log unveiled its secrets
in a spectacular, ashen form.
I adored their remnants
because from their midst a phoenix could be born.

The embers of a sunset always linger
for hours in my bosom.
I wait for the embers of a glowing word
to cool before I utter my response.
Even the embers of a dying passion
can warm a lonely soul.