Sparks Poem by Helen Crutchett
Sparks
We warmed our souls in the flames of burning
sizzling passion.
Sparks that once lit your eyes with longing
searing heat into mine have now dimmed
leaving curling smoke
in a heavy grey cloak of recrimination.
I gaze at the last glow of logs destined to
become dead ashes again.
(c) Helen Crutchett
Sunday, June 23, 2024
Topic(s) of this poem: souls
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1/13/2026 9:44:53 AM # 1.0.0
