Half-burnt
On a mantel
Wax dripping from some fond estuary
Of an evening past
Un-lit now
The memories stalled upon the stem
Waiting for a new match
To strike
And light the dark room with
The fire of romance.
(Previously published in Cotyledon, Catamount Press, #15, April 2000)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
If only it were a fly on the wall. I loved it.