Poised on a sharpened blade he balanced
Burning at each end, the wax became flame or smoke
Throwing light onto the faces of us who watched
Smoke stains on the ceiling, wax splashing to the floor
We held matches to relight the ends
When the balance tipped, we would gently stretch out our hands
And help it restore to the precarious equilibrium
Watching the candle burn shorter ever while
Watching the wax pool underneath
Wax soakedĀ into our shoes – we didn’t mind
The flame went out too fast
It left us with the memory of warmth and light
We hold hands in the dark