Camp Fire
The heat of its breath pours into me fighting off the chills of the night.
The cold finger tips of the mid night hours cloak cover over the land.
Stretching out my hands, the warmth penetrates my clothes making me long for more.
The shadows linger along every tree watching and waiting in silence.
Senses are heightened taking in the pleasure of what will come.
Breathing seems useless as the revelation of stillness comes over me.
Time is nothing more than a memory stored in a distant fading whisper.
Smoke caresses the air as the water licks away the flames.
Sleep is beckoning this soul to rest at last.
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