An Old Small Song
There’s smoke
from the dying fire in her eyes,
it bites deep at her heart,
and she sings an old small song.
Laughs. Then cries.
Old flames never die, she says,
and then nods-off into her past years
as the inglenook’s fire
goes cold.
dVerse quadrille #118 “inglenook”. 44-words, sans title. © Misky 2020 Photo by Stéphane Juban on Unsplash
11 responses to “dVerse Quadrille #118”
Oh how bittersweet this is. Lovely.
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Sigh, old flames indeed never die. I love the emotion in your poem and the image you chose is stunning.
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Thank you.
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Wow, I love the theme here. Memories, at times, can bring so much happiness and pain. Beautifully written, as always.
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Thanks, Lucy.
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I’m not crying…it’s the smoke in my eyes (sigh).
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This is wonderful and filled with longing… but alas I do think that old flames grow cold
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You’ve captured one woman’s experience so very well, I can see her there.
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Oh my aching heart this is so beautiful, poignant and well crafted! 💝
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Thank you, Sanaa!
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You’re most welcome! 💝
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