Burning the Wishes

This entry is part 8 of 29 in the series Morning Porch Poems: Winter 2012-13


We have such small bones,
such slight hearts, such

ordinary hopes we scribble
upon strips of paper then feed

to the fire that flickers
in the hollow of a bowl—

Quickly the flame consumes
what we lay on its tongue:

small now and sleek but soon
wild bud grown bold—


In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.

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