by Tacy Gibbons

Fire rages red, orange, blue—
the hottest it can burn.
Flames lick at my flesh,
devour my body, my mind, my soul,
leaving behind nothing but ashes.
The phoenix rose from nothing more,
arrayed in colors, vibrant.
I, too, rise up from the ashes,
spread my wings
and leave behind all that is charred,
then fly away with feathers anew.

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