Driving past the spot where we had stood,
Craning and tiptoed to glimpse the flame,
I can still feel its warmth
On this grey day.
For a moment this place was suspended in time;
An illuminated point.
Part of a route
Linking streets to streets
To towns and cities
And people to people.
National connection:
sparks of hope spreading
Like wild fire.
Even now, in the January rain,
This place is still touched by the glow.
And I notice a boy, running very fast,
Into tomorrow.
(A. Parent - thank you so much for this. It's good to remember in the dark and cold of winter the warmth and memories that places can unlock - and a perfect poem for people to spend the weekend with... oh the olympics...).
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