HomeSouthern VoiceDeath by Fireplace

Death by Fireplace

by Ed Nichols

It is past midnight and I am freezing. I have only
a few sticks of wood left to feed the fireplace.
How does one get to such a cold and lonely place in life?
I wished only to be left alone, to write. To set down
on paper poems and stories others might find
interesting, appealing, even enjoyable.
I committed to the craft all my talents, all my physical
labors. Conferred all my feelings, beliefs, and philosophies.
All my sexual encounters scribbled on written pages.
All my children were born in lines and stanzas.
Every hunger fulfilled by my teeth gnawing on words.
As the last log is placed upon the bright embers,
I watch and wait for the glow to disappear.
By then the snow will be up to the windows. There will
be no light. The water will be frozen. So tonight I rest,
wrapped in blankets on the floor.
Good friends I will miss. Good books I will miss.
No covets reside in my heart for the unresolved, for the
unrewarded. The deliverance of my soul hopefully arising
when these final words are written on my gravestone:
He Was A Good Writer.

Ed Nichols lives in Lake Oconee, Georgia. He is a Journalism graduate from the University of Georgia and is an award-winning writer from the Southeastern Writer’s Association. He has had many short stories published, both online and in print. In 2020, he started publishing his prose poems. He is currently working on a collection of Southern short stories and a book of prose poems. In July 2015, Deep South published his short story “Two Fishermen.”

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