Old Flames
I found old candles that she used to burn
while I was decorating the house for the holidays.
Even though the wicks are burnt,
cauterized from the last fire they held,
I was still burned by the memory of her in golden rooms
that were full
of the hum of different voices speaking at the same time,
like some sort of choir,
and her watching us with a smile in her face,
the light reflecting
like pools in her blue eyes.
*
The ghost of of Christmas Past.
The wick stains my fingers as I twist them.
A minute passes in the quiet room.
*
On these dark December days,
it is important to remember
that there is light even when the fire is gone,
if you just remember,
the torch is passed on.
*
Artwork: Impromptu Ritual by the artist known as Trickyworm or 4seaznz.