Campfires

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I awaken this morning

in the cave of my being,

perhaps not quite ready for the light,

not quite prepared for the surface,

I lay on my back

tenderly testing this new reality

with shallow breath and coiled tongue,

as if it were a coal,

still too hot to touch,

not yet cooled

from last night’s fire.

Where have the wheels

hidden beneath night’s carriage

taken me as I slept?

What cold and distant constellations

have been traversed?

What country do I now inhabit?

Will I find the same familiar trees,

the same mountains and seas,

the same beloved faces?

Or some new other,

yet to be explored,

transformed from the ashes of yesterday,

when we burned down the house

in the radiance of your smile,

which now, once more,

I feel blazing on the lids of my eyes.

8/11/16

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