Birth
Just one spark.
Hardy. It battles the dark.
The invention of a flintstone,
glimmer of an idea, grown,
an unhindered orange glow.
A halo mimics the shadow’s flow,
dancing. It slithers non-sentient.
The icy wind bristles, impatient,
but you shield this spark from harm
with the curve of your palm.
Copyright Vickie Johnstone, November 6, 2023
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