red booth
review

   issue 4teen  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

 A Testament 
  
In these last gray days of December 
The brightest thing in the sky 
Has been a trio of contrails 
Thrown across the one unclouded corner of sunset 
  
But Heraclitis’ fire still burns 
Consuming and recreating all 
  
In this season when fields stand naked 
And trees lose their memory of leaves 
I think I might extinguish the last coals of that fire 
Live clean and empty 
Desiring, above all, nothing 
  
But even that is a desire 
And wanting has always been my mentor 
Steady and passionate 
Real fire fed by seasoned ash and locust 
Of my own cutting 
Throwing erratic shadows 
From the soapstone firebox 
Into the darkened room 
In the only house, after all, 
I ever really wanted 
 
 
 

 - Cy Dillon
 
 
 
  

Cy lives in the Virginia mountains on a farm that has been in his family for six generations. He is fiction editor of the Nantahala Review and editor of Virginia Libraries.
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