Tiny Flame


candlestick burn away
wax dripping flame smoldering
eat at wax
confirm your shape, shift power
throw out your wick
as a beggar throws away bread
cling relentlessly
harden and shudder, never to die
hands that feel
reaching and grasping to live
hands toward the light
taking and learning from its warmth
a blindness absorbs me
the ignorance of impending cold
and still the candlestick burns
with the wax dripping from its flame
it draws me into its legacy
the flame tiny and pure
carnauba wax smells indifferently
not the odor that i would expect
wick and wax, mix and match
burn candle, burn candle
burn candle burn

the candle. snuff. The smoke...
no more light. No more light.


Copyright 2003 by pauly hart