The candle shivered, scared of the dark.
Its terrorized shadow wheezed
and waltzed in shortened steps.
Melting wax, now hot
overflowed, now cold
clung to the rusty old cot
in gasps of disbelief.
The wick, bent against time in shame
looked at the shallow depth of wax beneath
and sputtered in a reverie of helplessness.
A hand, a whiff, a blow…
The night claimed its prize.
The smoke, though, pervaded
Outside, the first dew drop
streamed down the blade of grass