The Poetry Corner

Change

By John Frederick Freeman

Just as this wood, cast on the snaky fire, Crushes the curling heads till smoke is thickened And the ash sinks beneath the billet's weight, And then again the hissing heads are quickened: Just as this wood, by fretful fangs new stung, Glows angrily, then whitens in the grate And slowly smouldering smoulders away, And dies defeated every famished tongue And nothing's left but a memory of heat And the sunk crimson telling warmth was sweet: Just as this wood, once green with Spring's swift fire Dies to a pinch of ashes cold and gray.... Just as this wood----