There was a candle in the window
It burned for the one true love
Waiting, flickering, hoping
The painting on the wall
was just hanging there,
recording the gyrations of the flame.

The flame jumped and flickered.
It lit the room
And then dimmed.
It was orange, then blue
Then the faintest yellow.
And then, it was out.

She’d kept that candle for years
To guide that one love back
But he never came
The painting recorded the truth
The flame illumined the path of another
Who found the way to her heart.

The candle became obsolete
A beacon unnecessary
For the one who wanted to find her.

By Deborah E. Dayen

Painting by Diana Henley, via Google Images

5 responses to “Obsolescence

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