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Night

The kindling was now aflame 
their job was finally done,
the sound of the crackling embers
piercing the cold night air.
It illuminated the motionless trees nearby,
and cast shadows further into the forest.
It heated the frozen dirt and leaves;
a sun in the frigid winter’s night.
The fire burned brightly and gray smoke deployed,
piercing the cold night air.
It was the brightest thing of the night,
except for the moon and its light.
They sat around the tiny fire
and consumed its warmth with delight.
Crackle! Pop! the fire said,
as its smoke blew away with the breeze.
The bright light was slowly declining
and the ashes subsided to dust
and nothing was left on that night
except for the moon and its light.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2015




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Date: 1/10/2015 1:35:00 AM
I found this poem rather warm and cheery. Yes...very enjoyable! :) john.
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Book: Reflection on the Important Things