January 25, 2010
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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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