A Little Insight

Running on empty,

I light a candle, and blow out the kitchen match, setting it down on the small table

And I pick it up, sure I won’t burn myself when I see no ember on 

The tip, but the tip hugs the wood and 

The rest pulls away.

Once my mother said she would never have pity

For some; long unaware decades I didn’t much understand, until now, her 

Ferocity. There are 

Weeds and wildflowers in my 

Windy landscape. If I run out of gas, 

So what?