Candle in the Dark

A poem

Photo by David Monje on Unsplash

Candle in the Dark

A drop of wax
Descending the stick
Result of the flame’s attacks
Bending, warping with each lick,

Flickering around the wick,
Dancing, ethereal,
Reflecting on cylindrical, slick
Surface to reveal

Though its tiny light lacks,
It works hard to mimic
The sun, who doesn’t relax,
Ever unrelenting, bright, epic.

So the illumination is enough
To read, to describe specific
Figures ’til the work is done
And it’s time to snuff
That single candle, gentle yet quick.

Andrew Biggs 2019