Wild, Free, and Unknown

The old woodland song,

carried, woodsmoke-blown,

floated high, alone…

winter songbirds gone.

The low embers glowed,

face-lit, firelight shone,

whilst the crackling slowed.

The flames flickered on,

palm-to-palm, we’d grow

like Fate and Flame both,

Wild, Free, and Unknown.


© CGT, 2017.

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