twisted around this fallen knowing
of forgetting a candle.
Neither fire nor smouldering
just the gathering
in anticipation of together.
Another note of repose
enthusiasm prodded toward meeting in the future.
Life is life is
life all the way down.
For life not to be found,
there can be no life
yet here is living seeking living,
here is life peering toward the possibility
of no life,
seeking, all the way down.
One wonders at how a combination of death
may produce the seeking life
who investigates its own vestigial absence.