Monday, July 17, 2017


The lighter snaps to life as the last
of the sun drains from the sky
It is naked, bare,
Harshly bright compared to the muted
flicker of the candles that line the path
A host of hands reach up, prop the ribs,
the flesh, as the fire kindles
Air warmed, the white orb lifts away,
a ghost drifting up into the sky
Eyes lift, follow the glow until
the distance is too great
The flame fades from sight
leaving its heat behind in our hearts

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