Mountain - For John

The best was when the fire was outside. 

Everyone sat wrapped in thick jumpers staring at the flames with dirty cigarette fingers and cold beers nestled between the thighs.

We'd get a good one burning and then what we'd do is throw copper wire and piping on it.

And the old metal would burn all sorts of colours.

Orange sunsets and bruised purples and the green was life in that fire, and the fire was life in us, and we would sit all night under the stars just dreaming alone together and sometimes...

 

well sometimes 

 

I'm afraid of the darkness and forever that lives in the night, but up there on that mountain, up there the whole damn sky was a diamond and I was never afraid, not once.