Same time each night
The flame reaches such a height
A flicker touches your finger
No one is home, out of sight
Of the visual of something unusual
Your eyes bear small torches
All it consumes, as evening shadows bloom
A flicker touches my finger
I'm not one to stare into the light
But I'll hold this fire, all told
Close to my chest, as a true admirer
No longer confined to dusty shelves and forgotten diners