Guy Simser

The Poet's Progress

Nightly, the little boy wrote the fire and daily he emptied the ash and the village folk asked of his father “Why?” and his father asked of his mother “Why?” and she asked “Why?” of her little boy and the little boy answered, “Nightly, I write the fire, daily empty the ash” . . .

december solstice
stirring the still smouldering
straw man