
World on fire.
Bats dart and dive
From dusk to dawn
And flicker through the short time in between.
Midsummer comes once more:
Ignites revolution. Sparks fly.
Lightning strikes.
Mutely, between fear and hope,
Once more, we feed flames.
Bonfire: symbol of
What may be a future;
Misunderstood prayer of longest days.
Wild sun on simmering clouds,
Broods still, on midnight’s horizon.
Dawn or despair lies around the corner.
Night is short, disturbed by thunder.
We fan the embers, even though
The world’s already on fire.
Time captured in flames… I love it.
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“Flames in the forehead of the morning sky”
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“Flames in the forehead of the morning sky” (Milton)
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Lovely line. Wish I’d thought of it Bob!
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