In the dark
In the cold
You burn
Not trying to give light
Just being light
Not trying to give warmth
Just being warmth
Not regretting
Not fretting
Not grasping
Not holding back
Not needing a sermon
Or a reason
Not hoping for thanks
Or wanting praise
Not fearing puffs of breath
Or drops of water
Or even the snuffer’s cone
Just dancing
Where you stand
As candles do
A little wick
A pillar of wax
Till your burning’s

Play notes: An older poem, brought out of hiding.