He said, “Wicked!”
“Chill,” she said
“It’s a slow burn. Wait for the flames to gather.”
It was a Radical Idea at the time
“Face to face?”
He said, “Wicked!”
They tried it, taking turns
Taking breaths when it got too hard
“Chill,” she said
Yet their fervor created a spark
Embers spread via mouth to mouth with tea times and tupperware
“It’s a slow burn. Wait for the flames to gather.”
This post is a “two-fer”! At the Go Dog Go Cafe, their Tuesday Writing Prompt, Devereaux and Beth Amanda requested: Use the words “wicked chill” in any form of poetry or prose. While Victoria over at dVerse Poetics, thoughtful of the catastrophic wildfires in California, asked us to “think about…the many other possibilities that apply to fire, and bring us the results of your burning creativity“.
Despite the seemingly conflicting mandates, my little poem seeks to illustrates how one spark – an idea, a change in behavior or outlook – can create a fire, a fervor for that change. There are many things I would like to change right now. My flame may flickering , but it will not go out!
I Do Run 
