Two candle stubs
in old candlesticks
drown their flames
in wax. A few strings
of gray smoke disperse
in the dim, darkening
room at dusk.
We're both quiet
as we look, together
and separately,
into advancing darkness.
Finally, one of us
says, "Well, . . . ."
and the other says,
'Yes, . . .". We rise
from the table,
pick up the dinner plates,
silverware, glasses,
and take them to
the kitchen where one
of us flicks on the light.
Hans Ostrom 2024
