Heat

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I’m dead already.
This poem is written in blood,
Scrawled in red,
Drops falling to sizzle on the pavement.
But do not cry for a poet lost.
I coaxed to life the embers of another.
That  the sweltering heat,
Could forge beauty,
Framed in syllables.

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About Michelle Toussaint

Michelle Toussaint is an Antiguan who has amassed an Associate Degree in Science Education as well as a Diploma in Forensic Science. As such, she Teaches Science in the classroom as well as at home, where she leads...er... co-leads The Tribe. A merry band comprising her Husband-The Chief, herself-The Priestess, and her three precocious children- the tribesmen. When she isn’t mothering, teaching, being a fangirl or feeding her chocolate addiction. She writes two blogs. Random_Michelle and Death By Expectations. View all posts by Michelle Toussaint

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