Stave 2
The match girl struck
Another stick of light;
It glowed so bright
It melted the wall of a house.
Through its transparency
She could clearly see
A table with a dazzling white cloth
Fine porcelain gleaming
A roast goose steaming,
Stuffed with apples and prunes.
The little match girl reached out
An ice cold hand –
And the match was spent.
© Kim M. Russell, 2015
Image found on americanliterature.com
writing in north norfolk 