A wick for slippers

As low as the notes that I cannot sing
As high as a tree with branches ascending
A finger’s escape from an ill fitting ring
All twisting and swaying and climbing and bending
I see sinuous muscles in the way that it’s bent
What music that moves it, I cannot say
But for now I will sit here, and be content
Watching a candle flame performing ballet
Advertisements

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 )

Twitter picture

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

Facebook photo

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

Google+ photo

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

Connecting to %s