when i sit by the fire in the evening
my memory flickers with flames
so many images flare up again
warm hearts, other places, old names

we sat by the hearth together
so many years ago
in days of love and friendship
now it isn’t so

i live alone in a quiet room
old pictures, old treasures, past days
my thoughts are drifting slowly by
there are things I will not say

emptiness is hard to describe
and words have too much power
there are things I don’t confess to myself
in the fire-lit, shadowed hour


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