Fire
The Fire
Burns to the touch
Cannot be contained
In the cold
The smokes resides
In June and July
And August retained
The fire remains
Untouched, detached,
And unrelaxed
Heat consists in lack of heat
cold confined in cold
the light we reach
Is no savior
Combustion is
The only favor
👁 1💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.