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In the Labyrinth of Old Love
                               With respect, Jim Simmerman, The Last Word
by Mary Jo Balistreri

You can be the sun's fierce fire,
if I can be the rainbow that links both land and sea.

You can be the obsidian, flit and frit of volcanoes
if I can be the sea glass held within a child's hand.

You can be fall's harvest of leaves,
if I can be the ashes piled against our roses.

You can be the river's constellation of stars
while I can be the swirling nebula.

You could be flame that tears its way through fields,
if I can be charred ghosts of old melodies.

The burning bush of Moses, you can be that too,
and I'll be embers that sustain our hearth.

First published Poetry East  

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