Glasses

Glasses

glasses on a table
stained with wine
and a trace of lipstick
reminding me of you and me
before the candles burned down
before the gathering of the dust
and the darkness that crept in
as it always must

glasses on a table
empty still
and waiting for us
but no conversation here
where the candles are blackened
where the dust lies undisturbed
in the darkness where laughter
is no longer heard

this room grows ever colder
now you’re not here

Caitlin Beveridge
(c)2008