She sits before the fire
flaming high bright yellow
lost in the crackling sound
of burning wood flashing sparks
She has not seen grandpa
two days pass
She knows something is wrong
but she knows not what
and we cannot tell her. Not now!
No, we just cannot extinguish the light
that keeps her going
that keeps her hoping
So we gather around commenting
on the fire’s bright light
And we say nothing
moving. i love the use of light as an analogy and metaphor.
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