A Strike, A Flame, A Toss

Synchronized

Footsteps to the sound of my wristwatch 

A sputter of fast paced thoughts

My imagination’s firm grip on the handle, a printing press – my mind

Round and round, pages pile up until they teeter and spill to the floor

An open box, a lone match stick, waiting patiently to take hold of the reins

Winds on stand by, to breathe life, at the same time an end

Thumb and finger, a strike, a flame, a toss

Out of the darkness once more