dear john

fire on the mountain
run boys run
fire on the mountain
run boys run

it smells
like kerosene
a little singed
around the edges
but tinged with exhiliration
and seasoned with a healthy dose
of sea salt.

who was to know, then
of dear john?
or maybe we did;
and maybe
in this fire-play
(and in his water-play)

we briefly stand
before the darkness
that makes memories of us all;

dear john.

fire on the mountain
run boys run
fire on the mountain
run boys run

RIP John. I will always remember you as the person who taught me to canter. And always thankful.