PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

A chill wrapped around me,

sucked itself inside

the heavy doors, crowding

at my back before dispersing,

scarcely disturbing

the rows and rows

of tiny votivess.  I chose

a dim secion, in want

of some warmth.

Patting my pockets, checking

for 20 pence in disappointment,

I dropped five into the drab,

metal box anyway-

on my honor-

I held a match

to the wick that would

remember you for

a few hours, extended your

lifeline by an inch,

and accepted that I

could not light them all.