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Poem: Bon Fire 

Bon Fire
For Shiv Mirabito

A bon fire
started with a big teepee of logs,
a small teepee of twigs,
some paper and a match,
kept us a little warm in this
unseasonably chilly August night.
The teepees smoked.
The smoke rose.
Follow the smoke to the
moon and stars
and there we are,
the distance that is God
that God refuses to close;
though we shout some tearful angry poems at Him,
or at the distance He refuses to close.

  • A poem by Donald Lev


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