Tonight's Poet Corner: Sonnet Solstice #136
This Candlestick
by Belinda Roddie
This candlestick is my only hope of
sight in this room when wires have frayed and lights
have dwindled down to nothing as the shove
of wind and rain hinders brightness these nights.
I strike a match and bring the flame up close
to the short wick, praying the thing will catch
and give me just a little bit of glow
as I maneuver through the house to latch
the doors and shut the windows. Sure enough,
the candle flares, and I see my pale, stark
complexion in the mirror. A single puff
of air threatens to make the whole space dark
again. But I let the stub burn and wax
stick to my fingers as the storm attacks.
by Belinda Roddie
This candlestick is my only hope of
sight in this room when wires have frayed and lights
have dwindled down to nothing as the shove
of wind and rain hinders brightness these nights.
I strike a match and bring the flame up close
to the short wick, praying the thing will catch
and give me just a little bit of glow
as I maneuver through the house to latch
the doors and shut the windows. Sure enough,
the candle flares, and I see my pale, stark
complexion in the mirror. A single puff
of air threatens to make the whole space dark
again. But I let the stub burn and wax
stick to my fingers as the storm attacks.
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