An Old Small Song
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
dVerse quadrille #118 “inglenook”. 44-words, sans title. © Misky 2020 Photo by Stéphane Juban on Unsplash
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