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The first star flickers in the northern sky,
trying to outshine the fading sunlight
while the moon begins its ascent
to the throne up above.
We light a fire
as night continues to roll in.
The fire crackles, struggling to breathe,
and come alive.
Our trail-weary legs now rest
as we huddle around the fire
hugging the flame's bright orange heat.
Night birds call from their perches
in the evergreen trees behind us.
And in the distance, the lake shimmers
reflecting the sparkle eyed sky.
Burnt ambers break free from the fire
rising above our heads until they fizzle out.
The crickets nearby hypnotize me
with their rhythmic chirping.
A raccoon approaches--
his quiet night eyes glowing--
lifting his nose to check the air
for signs of stray food scraps.
We wake the Spirit of the Past
as we tell stories of our childhood
and reminisce about the "good ol' days";
Our memories fly free,
intertwined in the cool midnight breeze.
As the fire begins to burn out
the smell of wood smoke fills the air,
my thoughts wander through the woods;
lost in a blissful peace
from the beauty that surrounds me.

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All poems and photos copyright of Jared Moll. Do not illegaly copy or distribute any poems or photos without proper permission of Jared Moll. Page designed by Jared Moll. January 2002. All rights reserved.