More Logs for the Fire
By birksy
More logs for the fire, they’re stacked fifteen rows deep, right up to the ceiling, though the fire’s nearly out. I watch the embers, glow then dim, under laboured, just a draught to breathe them, I want to move but never can. And your chair now empty, You’ve got a new fire in your hearth, Took flight out of nowhere, Gave me no warning. I suppose your flames burn high, Fuelled by the new love, I look at my log pile, Though it serves me no comfort. Written November 13th, 2001 © on Nov 29 2001 02:32 AM PST, Simon Birks 0 • 8
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"More logs for the fire,..."