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Our Candle


Little did I know,

As I watched the wax drip down,

That fire consumes everything.

The puddle at the end of the wick

Has tears mixed in I didn’t know I would cry.

 

You tell me even as it melts

We have all the time.

But I know now 

Flint and steel must touch to spark,

And our candle becomes still smaller.

 

Maybe one day

We can start another candle 

That will only burn with age,

But this candle has gone out,

Telling me to let you go.

 
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Corinne A Starke

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