Spirits Ignite, Inferno Lights

Spirits Ignite, Inferno Lights

crackle, smoke lifting off wood,
licks of ember rise in a silent grove
clearing where we gather 'round
chairs, folded out, feet towards
a fire, from a spark, 'til bon',
speaking of tales past,
yet locked in present
words leave lips
wicks burnt, whispers
over a charred lore
into night, we pour
our being, ourselves
spirits ignite,
inferno lights.

4/16/23 – Andy McRae

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Andy McRae

I have been writing poetry for the last 13 years. It all started as an assignment for a creative writing course. I never thought I would like writing, as I am dyslexic and language was always a struggle for me, but I fell in love with the art form in that class.

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