Cold Cauldron

Courtesy: Pixabay

Courtesy: Pixabay

a bubbling cold cauldron.
Spirits lost,
winter frost,
a glass shard holding the sun.
Fire in her hand,
eyes to understand,
a brew to drink when life came undone.
Forest to call her own,
the isolation she had sown,
a wine glass for the blood after she was gone.

©April 2018, Christina Anne Hawthorne



One Reply to “Cold Cauldron”

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