Embers

Your ghost on the horizon calls my name.
My arms reach out, yanking against the chains.
I cannot reach; again my will is drained...
I fall, I crush your memory to my core.

This carnal rage ignites a fire within.
The smoking embers sizzle through my skin
And fly off, ashes scattered on the wind,
Fly home to you, to be dust on your floor.

by Janine Ecks

Other poems of ECKS (15)

Comments (4)

Did Bryant really make the grammar mistake in the very first line, or did someone from PH type it incorrectly into their poem bank when they entered it? Correct would be the sun has DRUNK (not DRANK) the dew. This poem is better than the 5.5 rating given by the 31 voters so far.
I liked it very much and indeed you made this summer day of mine even better despite this ugly heat.
I really love reading these deep and touching word, you've made my summer better...
This is the loveliest piece I have read in a long time. Reads easy, paints its scene simply, transmits its joy without overdone wordage. And oh how I welcome that breeze on a hot summer day.