Sending out blurred images in the gloom.
I moved closer to the shimmering flame,
Like some moth drawn to the pungent
Odor of wax drifting up to the rafters.
Thoughts of a lost childhood emerged,
The light still bouncing around me,
Creating clouded memories of long ago.
Childish fears returned, those of a small boy
Wrapped in a blanket, little tears washing
Down pink cheeks waiting, wanting
To be loved, not forgotten, The smiles of hope,
Much like the flickering candle grew smaller,
The light becoming dimmer, but those little
Tears of a small boy remained forever.
Oooh... Maybe there are parts of all of us that go unmet. Nicely written!
ReplyDeleteso moving Jon. We all have that small vulnerable inner child inside of us, don't we? great post.
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