Candlelight 7

a one-lined poem

As if by rite, well, I pick up the box and I take out a match, crack the head on the flint, shield the flame from the slight lick of breeze coming through, I reach forward and hold out its head to the wick and I wait till it takes, bring the match to my lips, blow it out and delight in the smell of the fumes as they roam through the night’s warm sweet air, then I sit and I banish the thoughts from my mind as I watch the flame, longer than needed, as this is the last so I sit still and listen to nothing at all and then slowly, as if in a dwam, I lean forward and blow out the flame and delight in the smell of the fumes as they roam through the night’s warm sweet air and, subdued, I then stare at the din of the night now the light has all gone and I know that it’s time, time to listen.


“I affirm that I am light. Whenever there is darkness, I will shine”

Thanks Tremaine L. Loadholt and Ayesha Talib Wissanji xx

MWAH!