Things

A silver weave of bangles
that you placed on your wrist

held a star, a snowflake
and proof of your fire-kissed

soul. I could only speak words
that lingered on my tongue

and could not see them
clasped to silver- hung-

and fighting the flames
of your restless heart.

Pressed upon my mind,
Such are the things that fuel and start

the creation of gemstones.

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3 thoughts on “Things

  1. Melinda Kucsera

    I like the repetition of silver and fire, each time used in a different way, coupled with a different idea, building in new meaning to the story you’re weaving. As always, I love your use of rhyme and meter.

    Reply

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