Firstfire

finespun blue Dawn skies

cold and clear acquiesced to

heavy November gray

​

night surrendered her expanse

without incident, and drew her

cerulean coattails into this

​

carriage of night.

it was freezing in that

morning stillness. our first

​

freeze this Winter.

i gathered some small

logs, chopped and discarded

​

last Spring – surely due to

some sudden warm snap –

and built a fire in

​

my wood stove.

​

i sat here intending to

write a poem, instead all I

wrote was this:

​

peace is silence.

​

and put my pen down,

musing at the

warm crackle.

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