Candles, E.Jakpa

Candles

By Emmanuel Jakpa

glow in the small glasses
on the tables,

yellow lights
pours out the chandeliers,

"Lady in Red"
plays,

gentles
on the air.

I empty my coffee,
and step out

to the lazy
snow drops, falling

lightly,
lightly down.

There
is no wind.

The trees
are all drooping

with the weight
of the weightless snow.

No birds
in sight,

but I hear
a few chirps

as if from inside
bricks.