Cold


from the ABC set Poetry

There are no embers now.
Only dusty ash lying still,
cold as the silent night.

There is no fire left for us.
We sit, each alone here
wrapped inside the blankets

of our own solitary thoughts.
We breathe cold sadness over
the frosty ground between us.

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Comments

muzzy_starr | August 10, 2009 - 13:56

I like this....