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Bringing in the Firewood 


Chimney smoke exactly as gray

As the sky to which it rises

Teases the aimless snow that falls

With endless compromises,

But that's the way it is, I suppose,

In love as in winter weather:

People mix and mingle, drift apart,

Drift back together;

Where two have melted into one

Love flies its fragile kite,

But I see signals of distress,

Bespeaking oversight;

I know where fire has melted ice

and lovers play a cheerful game,

I know one who sweats with shovel,

Freezes to feed the flame.

"Bringing in the Firewood" appears in Making Up For Lost Dreams: A Collection by Stanford Pritchard, 2000, available at 10 Springside Rd., Middlebury, VT 05753.

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