Ignored to tatters
blown into corners
winter’s leaves settle
Crackled, unignited
and waiting
for a breeze
or a broom
or a flame
-
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Ignored to tatters
blown into corners
winter’s leaves settle
Crackled, unignited
and waiting
for a breeze
or a broom
or a flame
there's a poem in every day
aka: The Happy Bookers
Artist
I came to where you were living, up a stair. There was no one there.--John Ashberry, "The New Higher"
custom poems on vintage typewriters
One Poet's Writing Practice
A Ronka Poetry Practice Since 2014
Living in the moment
Puff Of Smoke Poems 
I love the structure of your poem and how it ends on that perfect line “or a flame.” Well done!
Hello Mary. Not sure how you stumbled across my poetry site, but glad you did. Thanks for reading and commenting. Now that I’m back online after a vacation, I’ll be sure to visit your site.