The Existentially Satisfying Feeling of Snuffing Candles

Thought I could stand to share another poem. I tried to get this one published for a while, but it wasn’t any editor’s cup of tea. I still love it…one of my favorite of my short poems, maybe.

Snuffing Candles

Melting, dripping with time passing,

Wick still clashing.

Ashen, waxen,

Flame un-passion.

Holding candleholder handles,

Snuffing candles,

Watch smoke-shadows

Dance to who-knows.

Out! Out! like the light that it is,

But witness yet

Grey pirouette’s

Dark banishment.

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