The day TV went digital
I sat and watched the fire,
Intrigued by the battles of the flames
That could rival any Kardashian divorce
And the stages of character
As wood turned to ash
Like sand through the hourglass.

The kindling provided its own commentary,
With a hiss and a crackle
And the convoluted demise of each chunk of wood
Was anything but cut and dried
Playing out an ancient storyline
Behind glass, beneath my eaves.

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