This one comes from earlier this year and is as yet unedited. Why? Because life has been rather busy as of late with various bumps, u-turns, and recalculation of paths. So why sweat a poem being sent out into the world a little more unprepared than usual? I’m sure it’ll find its way somehow.

candles & caskets

there's magic 
in a flickering
candle

as there's goodness
in the human
animal

brief comfort
against the cold of
night

& terrible recognition
as the wick reaches
its end.

If you enjoyed this poem, I’m very glad. If you’d consider purchasing one of my books, then I’d be even gladder. No idea if that’s proper English or not, but spellcheck didn’t kick up a fuss, so neither will I.