Fire in the heavens, and fire along the hills,
and fire made solid in the flinty stone,
thick-mass'd or scatter'd pebble, fire that fills
the breathless hour that lives in fire alone.
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Classic sonnet pattern. Sorry, but I read this poem three times and still couldn't really understand it. I think the twelfth line caught me and dulled my brain with slumberous weight. Maybe it really deserves the 5.7 rating given by the 31 voters so far.
This is a difficult one- -The Fall of the Garden of Eden, a valley that is a metaphor for life, the gathering of writing scraps into one place? At any rate, I found power in the first stanza