Thursday, June 04, 2020

Wax’n Wane



(for Ross... I wish you were here to Beta-read this)


Flick’ring candles
burning down in melted puddles,
guttering out too soon; eclipsing light.

Movement, strong breezes,
a single wafting breath of air is all it takes to dim the brightness.

Or, a final breath that brings forth darkness,
for the ancient stars to hide their twinkling glow;
a flutter of release, of invisible wings.

Emptiness
Ronda R. Scott-Marak
© 4 June 2020