My name is Caitlin Warbelow, I'm a 16 year old senior from Fairbanks, Alaska. Poetry comes to me in spurts- I won't write for a while, then I'll be inspired to write a whole lot. Candles is from one of those poetry spurts; it deals with that all too common and frighteningly unexplainable subject- well, you can guess what it is.


candles burn wax like you burn me
i am the wick and can't get free
till i'm gone, gone, gone
and you
make smoke signals in the clouds
gray on blue and black on brown
so twice you tried and twice i cried
burn the candle down

down, down to sourdough
or turkey on wheat
the line that's drawn
is yours to eat like snow
on winter days so cold
that noticing nothing you took hold
and dragged, dragged,

dragged me down
(not really, but i like to drown)
in sorrows in snow
so cold so clean
to freeze my bones
dissolve your lean

thoughts of me so now they're gone
no more oranges
no more stones
with which to speak and break
my bones
of mind not heart
and not so strong
forever lost
forever gone

Copyright 2000 by Caitlin Warbelow