In the heat of the campfire’s glow,
Amidst the logs, where embers grow,
A salamander, wiggly and slight,
Was darting in the scorching light.

Was hollow log, in which he lay,
A burning home now turning gray?
To save his life, I pulled him free,
From the fiery trap, his destiny.

Why did he not rush to retreat
From the inferno of fire’s heat?
A creature cold, with skin so damp,
In scorching flames was making camp.

Could he be a dragon fledgling, small,
Seeking flames, heeding fire’s call,
Was this the fire he imbibes,
To breathe it later from the skies?

Did I just save the little creature,
Or had I blocked a dragon’s future?

We’ll never know what it could have been:
Small critter’s demise, or a dragon’s dream.
Would I have done it over again?

                               Paul Pinkhasik,  July 4, 2024