ACCOUNT OF MY DAYS
Sequence: 4
TENDER
when the fire sinks low a little stirring helps
or blowing bent over at its root of coals
the fire rises over itself again
the fire is made of its fuel and my knowledge of fire
half moon first star I wish for those I love
the best of fates or failing that for courage
the cooling after-sunset air slides from
the grassy ridge downhill through the trees
I sit with my back to it and listen to
the early spring carousal of peepers
the night begins to flourish with stars and I think
how bloodroot goldenseal and maidenhair
have all come up today and wonder when
it was that someone of my kind began
to learn to tend a fire how many thousands
of years ago and how it was most likely
the fire itself that taught him so if only
he held attention close on it all night