Nights the walls come alive
and wonder at the hand pressed against them
searching for a pulse inside
A thousand stories to be whispered
of days before the dust settled
when gossamer light fell through windows
and the wind carried by to tell of changing seasons
Then came the rain falling fast
upon a world on fire
ready to drink of it and taste the iron sky
as it doused the flame
and sent up smoke signals to the stars
which gave back a new message for the wind to carry
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Why do you write?
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5 responses to “Smoke Signals”
Beautiful poem. Great imagery.
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Thank you Julia! (:
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A great poem, Mitchel!
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Thanks Susan, cheers (:
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I write to tell my story.
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