The river runs nearby, contributing sound.

 You all sit round me in silence, feeling my warmth.
Beyond you, the valley sides rise, clothed in trees.
The early morning mist is dissipating into grey cloud.
The river runs nearby, contributing sound.
 
You all sit round me in silence, feeling my warmth.
Smoke drifts past you, dissipating into the mist.
The fire that burns within me was once trees,
and before that, heat from the heart of the sun.
 
You all sit round me in silence, feeling my warmth.
Before someone shaped me as a stove
I was a calor gas bottle; before that ore in the ground.
Some of you may find me ugly, and that is a word.
 
You all sit round me in silence, feeling my warmth.
Tomorrow you will be gone, and I will be cold.
The buzzards will circle in the skies above, mewing.
The river will run nearby, contributing sound.

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