July 01, 2022
BY Jenni Astramowicz0
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Tonight
I sit
silent
under
the
starless
stygian
sky
swaddled
in 30 degree
down
and
fog
I listen
to the kindling
crackle
as
the flames
flicker
white hot
at my feet
and all the stories
sanguine
and sacred
spill
forth
on the stones
"Not until we are lost do we begin to understand ourselves."
Henry David Thoreau
