knittingknots (knittingknots) wrote,
knittingknots
knittingknots

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Poem: Sometimes When the Fire Burned Low

IK, probably


Sometimes When the Fire Burned Low


Sometimes, when the fire burned low,
and the night stilled the noises
of the family that surrounded him,
he would sit against the wall and remember
the feel of autumn wind
rustling through the dry leaves
of the tree he had chosen for shelter,
cold against the starry sky,
but colder yet
was the memory of aloneness,
the sure knowledge
that he was surrounded by a hostile world
that didn’t care.

Sometimes, chilled by memories
of days before she walked into his life
and released him from that place
suspended between heaven and hell,
he would think about other lives,
other outcomes,
and look at the faces of his sleeping children,
and the house that surrounded him,
and the small, curving shape
of his wife, snug beneath her quilt,
and his throat would grow tight in amazement
at the unexpected ways life takes.

Sometimes, he would even thank the kami
for making him a lucky man.
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