Though once an inferno, now
burning still in me--
only as an ember.
An Ember flickering,
waiting for
For the poet to bank it with the ashes of its consumed kindling.
This. This only until hope
can once more rekindle
the spring rain.
Aug 29, 2017
Aug 29, 2017 at 1:16 PM UTC
Though once an inferno, now
burning still in me--
only as an ember.
An Ember flickering,
waiting for
For the poet to bank it with the ashes of its consumed kindling.
This. This only until hope
can once more rekindle
the spring rain.
Inspired by a line from a poem written by a French Love of mine.
Request permission to use this poem