Too Fast the Flame Ignites
for Lisa, my sister
I would not praise you for your madness,
But for that fine spirit which inhabits
Every outpost of your restless being.
Asleep, awake, in tears or triumph,
You generate an air
Of movement, change, vitality.
Passion is the fire
That feeds into oblivion—
A heart, the tinder struck to flame.
©2017 Michael Fraley
Back to Poem-O-Rama