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Confliction The salt burns the open wounds
Wounds you never knew you had
Scars you thought had healed
It burned because it was real
It stung because it was needed
Like setting a fire for warmth
Holding old snow because it was pretty
You had wished for it
You had wanted it
And now that it is there for you
You don't know what to do with it
Do we put the fire out and clean the snow
Or do we let it burn and embrace the cold?
Like the pondering in
Like the pondering in this poem. Lovely contrasts too. An enjoyable read.
http://www.postpoems.org/authours/a.griffiths57