Monday, January 14, 2008

The Trapeze Drummer Inside Me

the trapeze drummer inside me
says that time for sparks are past--
that any fire so suddenly ignited
will with equal brevity fade to
ash before even it touches
earth;
no, he urges, better to seek out
heavy logs, the tinder, only
laced with softly-aired kindling.
a burning such as this may
last both day and night, until even
the next.
and when its flame is ebbed,
(its embers hopeless),
that smoke which remains may
yet act as a guide, or kind of signal,
directing the help-bent
rescuers hither
and yon,
into the dusty friendly flooring
where the trembling traveller
lies.

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