She Poem by Fidel Arcenas

She, love of my life, walks
Alone along this lonely trail,
Hears the faint chirps of
Precocial bird, drowning in
Fallen leaves; she picks it up
And finds its nest; further still
She meets a child weeping
By the trailside; she takes his hand
And leads him home; weary of the
Trek she rests in a candle maker's
Shed; it was dark when she bids
Goodbye.
'Wait, take this with you.'
So through the long she walks
Alone along this lonely trail,
Guided by the wisdom
Of the candle maker's light.