Reflections
My glass of wine rests nearly empty,
asking questions as before.
One guest remains,
silent in the shadows,
to lend excuse to pour a little more.
I’m alone.
The old reflections, in my
remnant of burgundy, slipped in,
as I looked across the years
at the flowers in your hair,
felt the rat-a-tat of far off fire,
and angels watching over me.
Enough wine,
Goodnight
Anne Grenier
Posted over on her site Knot In Line
Listed as #31 over on Magpie Tales 61
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