A light breeze
lifts the scent of wood smoke
on a gray December morning.
No one is out early
in the post-holiday winter.
The tendrils of smoke linger,
they have traveled far —
across years,
from the deep, soot-stained
fireplace of a lodge
by a glacial lake.
Snow drifted down that day
as we read in chairs by the hearth.
A steady supply of split logs
ensured a long respite.
When the warmth of the flames
overwhelmed,
we retired to a small balcony
with two chairs perched
above the frozen lake.
As my present-day heart squeezes,
this cherished memory
unfurls
on this quiet winter street,
blooming bright and warm.
A Reading Life 
I miss our log burning fireplace! Currently, we have a gas insert and it just isn’t the same without “the scent of wood smoke” and the “warmth of the flames.”
Favorite lines: “As my present-day heart squeezes,/ this cherished memory/unfurls”
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Perfectly preserved memory in a lovely poem! I do miss wood fires, no need for them here!
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Love this memory- vivid, bright, and warm. Retreating to the balcony above a frozen lake is my favorite part.
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