The Coals Still Burn
The fire has run low.
the last flames flicker and die out.
The dark of the night is no longer pushed back.
In the distance there are coyotes yipping,
their cries echoing along the quarry walls.
Beautifully dangerous beasts, safely afar.
It is time to go to bed. A night well spent
by quivering light. Hypnotic. Crisp.
The cold pushed back.
It is time to go in. The coals still burn,
far more hot than the rampant flames,
cleaning to heat as if they know far better
the value of life
as it draws to an end.
About this poem
What they don’t tell you about aging.
Tom
Quarry House 
Interesting
Have I told you lately how much I enjoy your poetry?
Well,I do.
I really enjoy your insights on life and love.
I must come back soon and get caught up on more of your poems.
Thank you,Tom .
And thank you for your kind words. As I recall, you had some health issues a while back. Are you better now?
Yes, I am doing better now, thank you for asking!
I appreciate each new day I have as after losing my sister recently, I have realized not to ever take anything for granted. My health is good now, thank God.
Love this, thanks for sharing.
Thank you, Valerie!
Quite interesting. Especially the line “About the poem”…… Loved reading it.