Poetry–Daniel Thornburg

We stoke the morning campfires and hearths so Sun Boy can find his way home—home again from the eastern reaches,

home again from the dark—to discover us here, circled around our signal fires, huddled in the cold, waiting and watching and expecting relief,

preparing our welcome, anticipating reunion, yearning for the warm blessings upon his return….

We stoke the morning campfires and hearths so he will be able to scout us out and save us all from the darkness again, just like they say in the stories.
(November 18, 2017)

 

I see the campfires of the sun tribe coming.

There beyond the eastern ridges, in the cool grey of this winter’s morning—before moving the entire host clear across the wide, open landscape, on into the western reaches—pink and coral,

the tribe gathers quietly around the red warming coals of their daily communal fires….

Now we see the campfires of the sun tribe glowing, growing rose right before the rise!
(November 10, 2017)

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