I see others with heads bowed low,
candles flicker, they feel the glow.
Their minds drift skyward, far from here,
wrapped in the glow of something near.
It hasn’t hit me yet
Staying here by the skin of my teeth,
I hope for a sign, and a sense of relief.
The candles flicker as more wine is poured,
I feel the need for something more.
I look to escape far from here,
wrap me in the glow of something near.
It hasn’t hit me yet,
but perhaps it will—
when the wine runs dry,
and the world stands still.
by Jake Jones
Image: ID 30043695 | Blown Out Candle © Sikth | Dreamstime.com