Clean Energy

by Columbine

My heart pumps hard against the pillow
Pushing unused energy into the softness
A buffer zone, egg cartons tacked to the walls
A padded cradle for the unruly infant
I sigh unheard into the raging spring wind
Clanging the flagpole rope, jangling chimes
My own exhaust lost in the rushing breath of the season
And isn't this what I wanted?
To burn clean and blue, away from tender fingers
Out of reach of children, but still a flame
Isn't this what I wanted?

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