After Marge Piercy’s Season of Skinny Candles

The glow goes out —
a signal of common

Only in that cloister
where I grew up

You could walk the wide streets
flicker of candlelight in each window

On all other nights —
the blue flicker that owns our time

There was always one candle
fast diminished by flame

Its neighbor leaning too close
eating right to the core

Mark Danowsky is a writer from Philadelphia and author of the poetry collection As Falls Trees (NightBallet Press, 2018). His poems have appeared in About Place Journal, Cordite Poetry Review, Gargoyle Magazine, Kestrel, The Healing Muse, Right Hand Pointing, Shot Glass Journal, Subprimal Poetry Art/Music, Third Wednesday, and elsewhere. He is Managing Editor for the Schuylkill Valley Journal and Co-Founder of Wood & Water Press.

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.