the salamander made his bed

among the glowing embers red.

a fiery furnace, to his mind,

hygiene and luxury combined.

he was, if i may put it so,

a saurian abednigo.

he loved to climb with nimble ease

the branches of the gas-log trees

where oft on chilly winter nights

he rose to dizzy fahrenheits.

believers in soul transmigration

see in him the re-incarnation

of those sad plagues of summer, who

ask, "is it hot enough for you?"