We are hanging
by threads tossed down
like life-lines
from pinpoints
above us. They shine with
the light inside
us all;
mirror images of
our life. Blinking
out
when the candle
stick snuffs the
flame - severing our line
to earth. I wish
a button existed
to warn us
when the light got
too low, or
the candle too short.
A reminder
to replace our
batteries. Good for
another
50 years.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem