(February/'47 / Connecticut, USA)

Fewer To View Sunsets

My life seems to be,
Quickening its once slow burn.
Like a wick lit to light,
A scented candle to flicker bright.
With more wax appearing to melt,
From a flame that began...
Like a birth to brighten to sparkle,
A darkness giving it undivided attention.
Fewer dawns come to rise,
To then be swallowed...
By even fewer to view Sunsets.
And shadows to cast in a darkness,
Dim to fade and leave to go...

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