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Atlanta is Burning

Atlanta is burning

Tongues afire

Freedom’s stirring

On this side of regret

Water barely drenching

The lapping flames

Comfort, respect; strength

Fighting the pain

And she weeps for what never will be

And she laughs at the future

Battling with grace and dignity

Never giving up

But you never die too early

And you never die too late

There’s a Truth we cannot take for granted

One we can never escape

So Lord, Atlanta is burning

The river’s shore beckons her home

Please take her soon to the other side

Where joy is her final crown.


9 September 2018

In the very last stages of cancer, Amy’s mouth was deeply pained and she described it as though it was on fire. Sitting bedside for six of her last ten days was truly one of the most sacred week’s of my life. This poem marks the date that I saw her for the very last time and said good-bye. She reached heaven’s shore 4 days later, crowned with joy.

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