The Bonfire
After the labor of cutting wood,we retire. We have a big pile, let's build a fire. As night comes closing down around the shadowy clearing. Shadows now from the fire are appearing. The roar of the fire as it engulfs the kindling. The hope of a bonfire soon will be dwindling. The crackle of moss that the fire gently ignites. Gives hope the flames will reach new heights. The faces around are eerie forms, like shadows on the wall. The faces I see in the flames, make my skin crawl. As the ashes fly up, dissappear,blending with the sky. Dancing demons in the flame, scare me, but why? The fire finally burns down, after many hours. The beauty drained as kryptonite does to Superman's powers. All that's left is red hot embers, burning into dust. Suddenly you lovely bonfire, is gone in a single gust. Written March 16th, 2002 © on Mar 15 2002 04:20 PM PST 0 • 10
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"After the labor of..."