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Kindling: a poem by Maria Justa Polotan

abstract, wavy, translucent shapes rising like smoke, muted tones of pink, creamy white, grey, and black, image by Prawny, on Pixabay.

(abstract, image by Prawny, on Pixabay)


I burned them today, your letters to me,

placed them in a pile in the garden

and set them aflame… with one tiny match,

they burned quickly, paper-white to cinder.

Smoke climbed—a sinuous path of grey,

teased by gentle wind, it twisted,

graceful yet mocking, full of acrid charm,

like a cup of unwanted memories.

And when the fire died, I began to cry,

perhaps there were ashes in the breeze.


Maria Justa Polotan is semi-retired music teacher. 

Music and writing have been the twin passions of her

life since high school, but she could choose only one

to focus on in college and chose the former. She wrote

very sparingly since graduating, but when the pandemic

and consequent lockdown came, the "work from home schedule" gave her a lot of free time, so she decided

to pick up the pen once more.

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Hayden Linder
Hayden Linder
Mar 22, 2023

Wonderful piece and the ending reminded me of my father. He always made excuses about how it was the air-conditioner making him cry, whenever he got emotional.


Jason Caldwell
Jason Caldwell
Mar 22, 2023

Lovely, and leaving the writer wanting more, which is where every writer wants to be.

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