_Merriam-Webster Dictionary - Word of the Day
16th January 2026_
_By Firelight -- Campfire Version_
The fire was burnin’ low, throwin’ shadows on the pines,
And the night had that hush that settles deep in your spine.
We passed around the coffee like old friends do,
And someone asked softly, “You ever chase a feud?”
I poked at the embers, watched a spark drift high,
Said, “A vendetta’s a wildfire under a dry desert sky.
It starts with a whisper, a wrong, or a lie,
But it ends with a man lookin’ himself in the eye.”
The boys leaned in closer, the flames paintin’ their faces,
As I told ’em how grudges can hollow out places.
“They’ll ride in your saddle, sleep under your hat,
Till you’re carryin’ more weight than a mule ever sat.”
I spoke of a fella who wronged me one spring,
How I tracked him through gulches where the canyon walls sing.
But when I found him standin’ under that blood‑red sun,
I realized the chase had already come undone.
“See, a vendetta ain’t justice,” I said to the fire,
“It’s a rope ’round your spirit, pullin’ tighter and tighter.
You think you’re huntin’ someone who did you wrong,
But you’re really just draggin’ your own soul along.”
The flames crackled louder, like they agreed with the tale,
And the wind carried sparks like tiny ships under sail.
“So I let that man go, and I let myself be,
’Cause sometimes the hardest fight is settin’ yourself free.”
The night settled quiet, the stars blinkin’ above,
And the boys nodded slow, each thinkin’ of someone they’d loved.
A vendetta’s a story best left in the dust,
’Cause a man with a free heart is a man you can trust.