I do not know what life is.                       

It must have something to do
with a traffic light
reflected on black water
beside the white fire
and a child in a stroller
and the popcorn-flavored
smell of smoke.

I do not know what love is.
I do know how it feels
to walk hand in hand
with you

inside the echo
of an ancient tune
with the moon almost full

and the fire
I long since
thought had died
coming alive
somewhere
inside me.

-Kenneth Slaughter