Poetry

When the Sage Burns

Copyright H. E. Remus 2015
Copyright Corissa Haury 2015

by Corissa Haury

when the sage burns to ash
and the rich embers that shone grey-green and red-hot

turn white and black and soft—

like the feather of a dove
that you found upon the ground
one day when you were young;

and the world was soft as
that feather, soft as
that ash of sage, soft as

that green smoky smell which fills your nostrils
even as the fire dies

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About Corissa Haury

Ridiculous, curious, most likely delirious. I love a great story, whether it comes in the form of words or visual stimuli. I believe everyone has a story to tell, and I love to share mine. Please feel free to read along, comment, share your own stories, or send me a message via the contact page. Thanks for your time reading my words.
View all posts by Corissa Haury →

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