• Anna Brozek

Bay of Fires



Where does time escape to

Here we are, in the Bay of Fires.

Even amidst the chill and frosts of Tasmanian winter

I find myself soothed and fed by fire

it warms me right now at the mouth of the cove

It pours through me, into his stream, and his into mine

Our fire can be bright and roaring,

Flickering and dancing and wildly contagious

It can be silent morning coals

breathing slow and burning long

As our bones are waned to rest

Either way, it keeps me warm

Cold nights still crisp in memory

I cherish those too.

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