I saw a line of red chimneys climbing up a hill
Keep the home fires burning
Baking bread, fire irons, warming slippers by the hearth
Gentle wartime mothers
Soothing the terror with barley-sugar sweets
Red glow of love upon their cheeks
Rosy like the fire, brave generation
Spirit world hugs and tears

Meanwhile on the continent, a different kind of chimney
Standing against the sky
Above a concentration camp, burning bones to ashes
Falling in the grate beneath

A hearth used to be a sacred place of sacrifice
In Greek and Roman homes
Sharing the meals with their favourite gods
Roasting the flesh while the gods took the fat
Wartime mother did right with her chimneys
Tyrant desecrated them
Along every street are chimneys, windows
Lest we should forget

I write occult and visionary fiction, and self-publish it as free books. I also write poetry and flash fiction, some of which is occult and visionary but not all, and I belong to a Spoken Word group for writers in my local area.
My Instagram is candyray1 and my WordPress blog is

If you would like to have your work published in The Poetry Bar send your poem, a few words about yourself and the link to your blog and Instagram account to the e-mail

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