(Poems) – it dies, unaided – 54 words

The firelight begins to dim.

I see it, we see it.

The splitting, crackling wood quiets.

Sore sorrowful sparks make their last dance.

Smoke rises like irretrievable hopes escaping us

The charred logs lose their glow.

I sweep up the white ash, we sweep up the white ash

The fireplace sits dark and still.

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