Death of a CampFire

I think of that distance which will not in a road

but for the cracks of pebbles and stones on a grey wild

and I contemplate on all the places that I have found.

Abstract winter sills and whiskey summer sounds

and places that I've been where there is no ground.

And of city crowds and the times it was ok to be loud

and waking daily in my dreams to visit other towns.

We are not so far from the Indian mounds and places

where there used to be towns and perhaps other great nouns.

Here I am now and I greet the sound of death to a campfire

while I sit awhile and contemplate on all the places I've found.

Reviews

[Jamestown]

Great flowing write, with thought provoking wording!
Forth stanza is really cool, thanks for sharing and b-blessed!

[Stefon Napier]

Thank you very much. I appreciate your insight.