I burned my finger on a lie
I don’t know if it was yours or mine
looking at my finger
I now know
but it still hurts
after all these days
Day 2541, lie.
Daily picture, Poetryfire
Day 1311, yellow.
Day's pictures, Poetry
The sky is gray
above my yellow house
~
inside I go down
to be closer to the fire
~
and listen to its songs
Day 836, lingering fire.
Day's pictures, Haiku, Poetry
Leftover fire
blackened wood grain and charcoal
some warmth still inside.
Day 612
Day's pictures
There may be a great fire in our hearts, yet no one ever comes to warm himself at it, and the passers-by see only a wisp of smoke.
Vincent Van Gogh
Day 607
Day's pictures
Words are only painted fire; a look is the fire itself.
Mark Twain