April 21, 2022 Tom Atkins Poem; Candlesticks Candlesticks Candlesticks. Brass. Iron. One of wood. On display, set just so, pretty enough, but somehow lacking. No candles. No fire. No light. About this poem Without purpose, or meaning, or love, the most beautiful life is….. lacking. Tom Share this: Share on X (Opens in new window) X Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook Share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest Share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit Print (Opens in new window) Print Like Loading...