This is the fire,
the fate of the fire:
to wax and bulge as I gaze upon it
and shrivel and splutter
when I turn my cheek—

my chagrin is great
and displeasure bold,
for the night ahead is long.

But this
is the fate of the fire:
to catch a waft
a minuscule flick
and with just a breath
to light a new log.

And then! how she roars!—

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