Flame Songs

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I hear the dead singing
In the whisper of the flame
Rings of little choirs
Marking out the days

Songs of lively lovers
Who never meant to go
Of lonely brothers lost
Who you never got to know

Of infants who scarcely knew
Breath in their lungs
Pressing their shimmering
Flaming songs

My roaring little circle
Why do you call to me
In ancient tongues of fire
As I await the rise of steam?

Songs of glass and dashboard
And the last road that you saw
Of plastic tubes and night nurses
Who were too nice to ignore

They sing to me a squealing storm
Of a warmth I can't return
I can only watch them burn

~ Brendan Bonsack 2009



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