rise up alight


these troubling days
have made it difficult
to flare up –
to keep on rising up

somewhere closer
than you’d think,
someone’s mother
huddles down
into a smooth pew,

clutches sanctuary
(final hope’s
most sacred flower)
against the black-boots
coming for her

coming for her,

for her
I cannot be afraid
of the coming fire
how could I dare other
than to rise up alight
and blazing

© Sarah Whiteley

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