Haikus and a Sunday Fire

A flame flickers with its light,
But where I sit, cold.
When flames die so too the heat.

When sparks passed another came
And then quickly gone.
I am lost again in black.

Ember coals cored deep within;
Crimson as my heart.
Blood and flame are not the same.

Warmth is left or so it seems
When I walk away.
Will it come back tomorrow?