Withering Candle

Once, as it rained in summer,
winds brought down the electric pole by the road.
But the evening was stretched by a night
and the morrow pushed by a day
of stories, laughter and tears
among faces familiar -
in a corner of the dark street
lit by a candle
weeping with joy.
As seasons passed, he left for a place -
unknown, far from his home.
To toil, explore, and find his worth.
Years later, in a moving Car
staring at the towering block
over which a flock of birds flew
he wonders -
where is his home, and yesteryear’s smile ?
where is the playground, he crouched in tears
and let the rain wash away his fears?
What is now left in him that made him ?
He asks, is he -
A Tree that has forgotten its roots, or
a Kite let loose, or
a mere candle that slowly
burns unto death -
weeping in pain ?
Unable to brighten the city it lives in
whilst it could have lightened, the home it left.