Poet, Writer, Media Maker, Facilitator

Cinder

 

Do you remember when
we set fire to truth?

When it burned as Bright as a birch copse aflame?
A stand of burning birch in the autumn.

You remember.

When all we knew lay beneath the branches.

And it burned.

Burned until we didn’t know it any more.
until we knew nothing but flame.

Remember?

 
Adrian EarleComment