Shall I throw these candles away?
These condoms and baby oil too?
The classical CDs we’d play
softly to frame our gentle mood
of love? We adored Beethoven.
Shall I throw these candles away?
Shall I toss the pillows and sheets,
this blue comforter turning gray?
The futon mattress where we’d sleep
those winter nights you’d choose to stay?
In candlelight your warm face gleamed.
I’d watch your closed eyes as you dreamed.
Dare I take down The Odyssey,
tear out the page where you wrote “Love…”
or try to read Yeats’ poetry
bookmarked with pearl-white envelope
filled with strands of your sunrise hair?
I’ll hear your voice if I go there.
I’ll see blue eyes in candlelight,
soft fingers flicking guitar strings,
feel arms enfolding arms at night,
recall words, laughter, countless things,
silences, how you loved to play…
Shall I throw these candles away?
Roger Armbrust
