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.