A fire burning, flames dancing on the wall,
shadows with faces, memories transforming
this room back into another time, another place,
as we sit hand in hand watching
the logs turn into ash,
each one of us lost in the past,
do you see them burn, can you hear their cries?
They crack, they fight, twist and turn,
they don’t give up, they fight for life like all of us
did you ask them, did you ask the tree,
if he was ready too die for you, for me?
To die so our room would be warm and bright,
die to cook the turkey that once roamed these fields,
under the full moon I can hear them courting,
wild, free, full of life,
why do we have to kill to survive?



Sybille (Sydney) Krivenko 2006