Candle

Dusks slights

the wind flickering

those stars of

wise sparks

and wavering wick

that mirror of spears

vails of teasing flaunts

a kite with taught rigour

still carves blind

a stroke upon

its sail of masts hung by shreds of

papered edge and rough cloth

are lit by a lasting flame -tipped

claw inside a nest

first to gape at

the final port

and last to forget

an endless trail