074.365 - the fire

slipping from the city
one at a time
slipping through the forest
one at a time
slipping into the clearing
one at a time
they gather
someone builds a fire
a few toss incense in
more a small coin
a rag
a scrap of paper
what they can afford
these people
who do not know how to live
except in the city
and cannot live well there
these people
who every day must find
a way to pay for food at least
and every night
gather to praise
having survived again
they call it mercy