The Dying Ember

April 23, 2010
As I walk down the narrow pebble filled trail
I squint ahead and my eyes are stung with a huge cloud of smoke
I scramble to fish out my mini flashlight
I grasp hold of it, but my perfumed lotion acts as a lubricant and it slips out
Of my reach
I crouch over like a hurt koala cub
And my hands fumble around, trying to find my light, my security
Giving up, I stumble deeper into the wooded area
Sitting down on a rough and peeling log, my hands feel a row of ants
Marching in and about the crevices of the log
After staring into the cold darkness, I gather a bundle of twigs and logs and start a fire
As my sensitive eyes follow the flickering flame, my mind grows silent and still
I question myself and try to search for a solution
Inner emotions mix like a blended smoothie
With a final flicker, the flame germinated like a thirsty bud drinking sweet water
I walk away, and see an ember on the floor
Dying, but not extinguished

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