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Holy Saturday

By Phil Flott

I walked into the cold of the night

He had just lit a fire

Though those in the church didn’t know

The flames went only so high.

When looking at the skies I felt the warmth

And in the dark I saw the light,

Wondered how long it could burn

And lighten the night.

A fire whose cause to be was not its heat

But lighting up the dark of Saturday night

By lighting each one’s candles, and repeat

Until the cloud of darkness took to flight

And turned the night’s dark sight to bright white

A thing we knew would happen and expected

Because his light was what corrected.


Phil Flott is a retired carpenter and priest. He has poems in Penwood Review, Spirit Fire Review, Bez n Co, Agape Review, Raven's perch, and others.


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