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Faith
January 25, 2010
I started a fire years ago
whose flames nearly touched the stars.
Over time I watched that flame
shriveling, shrinking, down to nothing.
Today, amidst charred wood, steel gray ash
one crimson ember glows.
Panicked, I rummage through forest
for one solid log to revive my flame.
If a solid log isn’t covered in hostile thorns
it is sopping wet, no good for a flame.
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