A Cold, Cold Fire
These wounds burst open
A stitch could not hold
A frostbitten tongue
Left in the cold.
I wish I could speak
But friend I’m afraid
I am still quite weak.
You came and you went
Never rebuffing
On the time we have spent.
I, with nothing to say.
For the fires gone out
Forever be it may.
This tongue appear thawed
Finally free, my fortunes now rest
In the warm hands of god.
The fire is out
In more ways than one
A new foundation emerges about.
Now, all over again
I must gather the sticks
And let the blaze begin.
Copyright © Cindy James | Year Posted 2006
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