Fire cracks—
journal pages burning
flames still yearning
piling dust tracks;
sparks stray, fire slacks.
birch catches, bark turning.
eyes faced up (discerning)
drink up what city lacks.
cold drives through a wool sweater
right down to the skin—
treetops thin.
Star, so bright when earth met her
pulses with planetary spin;
our sun’s only kin.
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