My poetry class chose an object and did a brainstorm on how to write about it, and then we each wrote individual poems. Every poem managed to be so different from the rest it was almost surprising. This is what I came up with. (Out of curiosity, what color do you think the candle is?

Lines denote stanza breaks.

Lights out

With no backup generator

A single candle found

Unburied from a pile

Of long-dormant memories

Of confused hourglass metal

Atomic structure unknown

The wick is lit

Of how bright one small flame

Really is

Seeps into the air

Like the musty perfume

The candle emits

Warms the body

But one candle lets

The eyes experience new warmth