Candle

In familiar comfort was I alone
Like a candle’s light in darkness shown.
With trembling flame and cotton wick,
The blackness does the light constrict.
It dances softly on the floor
To contrast shadows on the drawer.
Darkness seeks to steal the light
As does age with time blur sight.
The candle’s wax changes form
From stick to base into puddle warm.
Not unlike our fragile figures,
The wax grows stiff with absent flicker.

by Garret Woo

1/7/2019