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Walter C. Edwards


To The Fire


A Long night to a pilgrim,
and a lonely eye,
a vision to a questioning mind,
Gods temple,
camp fire burning high,
forest green, lush and still,
dark lonely unfulfilled,
water edge flows fast,
deep current could pull me down,
must find my way around,
the jagged stones,
to cook the fest I carry,
I find my way to liberty.
hunger soon I will not be.

Submitted: Sunday, April 28, 2013
Edited: Monday, April 29, 2013
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