Burning a Book by William Stafford The Poem:
Protecting each other, right in the center
a few pages glow a long time.
The cover goes first, then outer leaves
curling away, then spine and a scattering.
Truth, brittle and faint, burns easily,
its fire as hot as the fire lies make—
flame doesn’t care. You can usually find
a few charred words in the ashes.

And some books ought to burn, trying for character
but just faking it. More disturbing
than book ashes are whole libraries that no one
got around to writing—desolate
towns, miles of unthought in cities,
and the terrorized countryside where wild dogs
own anything that moves. If a book
isn’t written, no one needs to burn it—
ignorance can dance in the absence of fire.

So I’ve burned books. And there are many
I haven’t even written, and nobody has.

My questions:

Are there more positive or negative words in the poem?

What is the subject of the poem?

What is the tone of the passage?

read this passage from the crisis. what rationale is paine using for going to war with great britain? my own line of reasoning is to myself as straight and clear as a ray of light. not all the treasures of the world, so far as i believe, could have induced me to support an offensive war, for i think it murder; but if a thief breaks into my house, burns and destroys my property, and kills or threatens to kill me, or those that are in it, and to "bind me in all cases whatsoever" to his absolute will, am i to suffer it? what signifies it to me, whether he who does it is a king or a common man; my countryman or not my countryman; whether it be done by an individual villain, or an army of them? if we reason to the root of things we shall find no difference; neither can any just cause be assigned why we should punish in the one case and pardon in the other.

it is waged war against an army of countrymen

it would lead to independence from britain

it would be an offensive war

it would be a defensive war

this is what i put and it was correct

it's a way for authors to communicate with reader in this time period. books from the past can teach us about life.

waves come crashing to grey sullen shores.

powerful and strong, it breathes and roars.

cascading and caressing each grain of sand,

a warm embrace between sea and land.

high above, a seagull soars high.

wings of purity it spreads to fly.

battling high against darkened cloud,

in a wind that blows fiercely, flying graceful and proud.

beneath, the sand is soft and warm.

sculpted by nature, it's weathered the storm.

a passionate battle between calmness and rage,

a new chapter's beginning; don't turn the last page.

i listen again to the whispering waves,

music of nature calming and brave.

its power unknown, its stillness untamed,

mysterious and magical, a treasure earth claims.

plz mark brainliest

explanation: