portion of the artwork for Claudia F. Savage's poem

Into Fire
Claudia F. Savage

Like a recent widow all he saw were billowing flames

                                tonguing the wind as prayer flags.

All he smelled were a thousand bodies

crushed in heat’s anvil.


He forgot there is always another story.          Look

to the seed. A hundred years in soil.

                                Its faith in fire. To split the body inside the body.


Burn to color.

Lazarus as name.



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FRiGG: A Magazine of Fiction and Poetry | Issue 47 | Spring 2016