Wax & Wick

A Poem

You’re not even the candle
Candles burn,
Waiting in the darkness
Quiet, and firm

You’re far from a candle
You’re touch is not warm
Your un-charred fiber is an embarrassment 
To your shape and form

You’re almost a candle
You can dance, but won’t
You’re all wax, no wick
You could, but don’t 

Candles drip
Candles singe 
Candles bring romance 
To the room they’re in

Candles laugh
Candles fight
They sacrifice 
For birthday rites

Candles glow
Candles roam 
Casting spells into the air 
Nostalgia is a ghost 
Only the nose can sense is there

Candles mourn
Candles grieve
Candles sit beside us through the storm
There’s comfort and compassion
In the flame where wax & wick conform 

Candles cough 
Candles bleed,
Melting to puddles the un-charred never earn

Candles burn knowing they’ll die

And yet, still the candles burn!

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