Feeble Flame

A candle is a solemn thing.  It mourns

In incense air, on Maundy altars, on

The cusp of Crucifixion, crown of thorns

And burial without a dreaming dawn.

A candle is a solemn thing.  A meal

With blossoms on the tablecloth and scent

Upon her neck and ears can make him feel

Romance and its solemnity.   Flame spent,

The candle is more mournful, askew love

When well past resurrection and when graves

Are where white candles cannot save true love.

The flames light eyes to martyrs’ bones in caves.

  A solemn candle on an icinged cake

    Might turn the party to an old man’s wake.