January 13, 2009
By colin roberson, Midway, UT

Through the door,
The charred logs are a blaze
Red and yellow dance above the white flames
To hot for even them.
Watching the show I leave this earth,
The cold one with the snow
To a warm one
But get to close and get burned
Watching the flames dance my eyes
Begin to fill with smoke
But I still watch.

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