from the ashes

for some reason eyes hang heavier there
as if closed by conjunctivitis like a new born cat
groggy but propelled by a chill, work begins
gathering of twigs, sorted by size
food for a beast now laying dormant
dry instant coffee and oatmeal set aside
bending down and blowing softly
yesterday glows like the rising sun
some kindling added to gray silt
sprites of smoke now dance
heralding the arrival of their master
ashes turn to flame and new life
the rest will soon stir from their tents
paying homage to the newly created beast