Lumen
Photo by Amoon Ra
Poetry By Hiba Memon
Wick by candle wick, burns in eternal light;
famished flames exhale plumes of smoke, curling up into the air. They merge
with the smoldering end of the pipe
clasped in my fingers, grazing the tip
as it floats on by. Wick by candle wick
dancing away in the cold winter air.
I blow it out time and again,
but it manages to flare up.
Every time.
The shadows on the wall grow tall,
the grandfather clock ticks away,
hours go by; then seconds; then minutes.
Wick by candle wick,
time comes to a stop,
and the world fades away.
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