Waiting For Someone

While Waiting
© 2009 Rolland G. Smith

Low conversations, a viscous din,
nothing completely understood.
A word here, some laughter there and
the smothered tone of silver on china.
Tiny flames flicker in tall
translucent crucibles. Their frail light
competes for ceiling space amid
a limpid bright of mood.
They loose!
Alabaster sconces dimly light thin posts
that frame the windows to a blackened sea.
False mirrors with a dark reflection.
No way to see the sea at night.
The light within out shines the outward dark.
Is that me?
A being that cannot see its light,
yet it knows its there.
Heavy steps send a tremor to my
glass.
A shimmering through a slivered
stem that balances a bulbous breast
of amber wine.
Enough thought.
My conversation has arrived.