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Firewood

by Jim Moore

All day these pieces have been waiting their turn--—
The oak, the maple, the birch,

It's a fire they want--a hearth of coals
Engaging enough for a grainy walnut, a hearty beech,

A place to warm old bones
And the coal-black of iron--—

That dusty-red glow
That settles in the womb of a flickering star,
Chasing the polar night away.

10/31/2007

Posted on 10/31/2007
Copyright © 2019 Jim Moore

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by George Hoerner on 10/31/07 at 05:13 PM

This is excellent! Short but it captures the mood that wood must have as it watches its' turn to join the fire. Nicely done!

Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 03/11/08 at 04:41 PM

Pretty amazing what you capture here from simple pieces of wood waiting their turn to "That dusty-red glow That settles in the womb of a flickering star,". That line elevates this above the ordinary.

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