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  • A splash
    of candle light
    haunting this October room
    as my eyes stray and sweep
    your lovely image,
    whisking your glow
    like silk straws
    of a broom.
    wind screams outside,
    a poetry of fighting cats,
    shutting every window
    with a jarring slam.
    the moon herself
    would rather be
    where I am.
    voice sparkles
    with such cloudless cause
    flows so freely as our wine,
    and of all the moments
    I've ever counted on,
    I know this one
    be truly mine.
    (c)2015 Miles Ciletti
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