Daniel3

D a n i e l  H a l e s

Prelude

I’ll send you a lit candle

to cast these syllables

back to their lithic shadows

to draw forth and illuminate

the intent pulsing

in its paraffin marrow

Expect it to arrive Tuesday

a large envelope

color and scent of smoke

curled at the corners and hot

DO NOT BEND

When the candle grows ripe

feed it this poem