KS Culbreth

Throughout the River Town

Throughout the river town the evening bells
Play carillons from the hillside steeple;
Trembling with the flaming citronelles,
Our hearts quiver like a chatt’ring people.
Despite the hour the sun still hangs on high –
Despite the daylight patrons drink their fill.
On the café we chat neath cloudless sky,
Dip fingers in the guttering candle.
We peel the casts of wax as reeds begin
To play that fading melody, Summer.
Your waxen molds sit somberly in mine
As molten mind is pressed by Night’s fingers,
— For these impressions – warm and sweet, supple,
— Must soon cool and harden like snuffed candles.