To Ashes
from Out With Lanterns, a mostly daily poetry practice
Burn out
has singed
my edges.
Paper curled,
flew into gusts
that I saw
coming
but still did
nothing.
I stumble
to the
finish line
through
smoke laden
air. Should’ve
known better,
but I guess
my mouth is
dry. My lips
still can’t form
the word
No.
What an incredible poem.
I am still receiving your poems but they had started going to promotions for some reason instead of my primary inbox which is were they used to be delivered to. xx
No hard to say no.