Burning Brush
E
Eric Cockrell
0
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burning brush out back,
sticks and twigs and limbs...
when the pile got low
i started throwing in,
memories, feelings, and dreams.
the fire blazed high,
but just for a moment...
then died to embers,
steady and pulsing...
and so does time to the heart!
the flame that gasps for air,
strangled by its own ardor...
till the outer body burns,
what's left is pure fuel...
warming the feet of God!
Bu şiiri puanla
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