A Candle Burns On The Mantle

Candle burns on the mantle; in red glass it flickers like red-hot winter coals it'll be autumn soon with searing casseroles it'll be winter with frozen toes, alas. But-here-the-candle flickers are the last embers of summer; my fiftieth all told I wonder how much more will-be-surpassed I'll amass before any more springs withhold. Springs a passage of rights that we've survived I'll enjoy this night with a Malbec wine I'll not curl up my toes, yet I feel too revived but I will lay on my back writing supine I'll look out the window to see the stars I'll climb into bed in my lover's arms and dream of a candle, a fire in our hearts that never has seasons, never has these qualms.