Come, little fire

by Brianna G. Harte

Come, little fire,

Warm these little hands.

Chilly winds,

Calling out in the moonlight,

Carrying away comfort,

Far away from my bones.

Come, little fire,

Burn bright, ever so.

Without you,

Blows of the gusts

Are all that my ears can hear

Beneath the thin hat I have.

Come, little fire,

Stay lit here.

Although I cannot supply

The food you dearly crave,

I wish to keep you,

Keep you alive with me.


Come, little fire,

How I know your aspirations,

To go beyond here,

To be something more.

But please wait around,

You know not your worth.

Copyright © 2016 Brianna G Harte. All rights reserved.


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