Brian Simoneau

Tending the Fire,
by Brian Simoneau

There are stars so far away

their light has yet to reach us

and when it finally shines

on us, the stars themselves

will have already fizzled out.

The things of this world

never go away—matter’s

neither created nor destroyed.

A log in the fireplace, hushed

voices in the night, you can see

the universe at work: a knot pops,

becomes smoke, heat, light, ash.

It’s said that the dead live on

in the memories of the living.

That’s also where they’re always

leaving. Sparks bursting bear little

likeness to the smoldering

piles of morning’s first light.


Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 15, Issue 1.

Brian SimoneauBrian Simoneau’s poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Boulevard, Cave Wall, The Collagist, Crab Orchard Review, DIAGRAM, The Georgia Review, North American Review, Salamander, and other journals. His work is also included in Two Weeks: A Digital Anthology of Contemporary Poetry. He lives in Boston with his wife and their two young daughters.

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