A sonnet dedicated to Irving Lipson and his family
Puddles of Wax
By Susan L. Lipson
A candle flickers in my heart for you;
I symbolize it with a wick just lit,
Commemorating millions also due
For honor as we rise from where we sit
To sing of lives snuffed out before their wicks
Had burned for all the years they should have glowed,
Before they were consumed in flames like sticks,
Or piled in pits and ditches by the road—
A road less traveled by the ones who’ve dug,
Unearthing truths embodied by their bones,
The ones who will not sweep under the rug
The evil echoing in ghostly moans.
The candle flames will end in puddles here,
While yours will burn and shine in every tear.
