Two tiny dancing flames,
Twin wicks of a pink candle
That smells like the ocean,
Flickering, twisting,
Casting their glow on the ceiling,
Inspiring the curtains to surrender
And burst into their own dancing flames.
Soon the carpet dances
And the furniture and the lawn.
A pretty red truck arrives,
Singing a merry two-note song
And the men from the calendar
Let water join the festivity.
Somewhere nearby, a cat
Sits in a tree, unrescued
While the humans are upset
And the flames cherish the day,
Their last and finest,
Until the next little candle hosts a ball.
The Daily Travesty 