Match


One fluid motion
tiny Promethean gift
a small beginning.

Unwanted Zephyr’s
flickering wisps in hot air
survives, with more might.
Yet then, falls sparkling
end and start, inflamed souls rise
hand too, nothing is safe.
Quickly out of hand
rising…falling…progress
onto double string.
Lighting dark faces
glowing, brightly, lou of love;
pale shadows cast black.
Irrational fire
decidedly lonesome waste
war has no winners.
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3 thoughts on “Match

  1. Wow! I love your writing! You have a very unique style that has an immediate impact, and one that lingers in thought afterwards too. So glad you stopped by my blog and led me to yours! I look forward to keeping up with your work!! 🙂

    Like

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