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Thursday, September 3, 2009

Flickers of Firelight

Splintered logs singe like hair
strands, curling up in a pile of ash,
and hissing smoke slithers into the air.

Blue and white flames flap with
fluttering sounds in a stiff breeze
as embers crack then snap.

The pit radiates light into the dark
abyss of autumn nights, scenting
the quiet with hickory.

Through branches, like fingers that
claw at the sky, peering through
a charcoaled haze, I see you
shrouded in the shadow of past admirer’s.

An emptiness fills my spirit, echoing
the soft footfalls of isolation, as I await
your full return.


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