Persistence of the melting candle
I got myself my own Dali piece
A climate change melted candle
Dali can keep his melted time pieces
In the persistence of memory
If such time exists it escapes us
Surrounding, bathing us, drowning us
It even morphs inert objects
The humble candle
Melting not by the heat of its own
But by the heat of a hot summer
In an iron corrugated shed
Kept on a shelf in the shade
Slowly melting of the shape
Collapsing on itself
Losing its upright standing
To a lazy laying one
Spreading crawling along the shelf
Pulling itself languorously to the lower level
Time, heat, time and heat,
Repeat endlessly as long as the Aussie summer
Speed is not of the essence
Consistency is, more heat, more time,
Given these the candle will have moved
All the way down the bookshelf!
Lucette C. Bailliet
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