The frost hugging the blades of grass this morning.
Icy vapour from my breath.
Cold nipping at my wet hair.
The sun hasn’t come up yet, but on the horizon
I see the fire edging it way towards the sky.
Burn, Burn, Burn.
I want the warmth to return.
Where is my fire in the sky?
Burn, Burn, Burn.
I want the heat that my soul swims in.
Dance on fire through the rain.
Sept 14/12
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