The Slow Burn Poem by Dean Meredith
The Slow Burn
The little candle
Burns on
Night after night
Knowing its fate
Not complaining
Just being
The odd sizzle
Old friend
The air
Suddenly turns
And invisibly
Becomes
Executioner
The wind
Never gives in
Not much
But enough
For us
To share
The candle
Lives
Dies
Once
A hundred times
The burn
Always down
The wax
Melts on
To rest
Short and fat
The flame
Always up
Or so it seems
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 5:14:59 PM # 1.0.0.1119
