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by
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The Fire Burns
Poems
Aug 2017
Coalesced Thoughts
The precipice reaches out for me,
with gnarled fingers on bony hands,
tugging, pulling, forcing me,
toward the edge.
Freefalling into the abyss,
where words and verse form,
sometimes, rarely, maybe,
other times a gem forms.
Shining in the blackness,
plucked and shined,
and displayed,
for all to see and criticize.
Written by
The Fire Burns
M/Artesia, NM
(M/Artesia, NM)
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