By Marge Piercy
A row of tall skinny candles burns
quickly into the night
air, the shames raised
over the rest
for its hard work.
Darkness rushes in
after the sun sinks
like a bright plug pulled.
Our eyes drown in night
thick as ink pudding.
When even the moon
starves to a sliver
of quicksilver
the little candles poke
holes in the blackness.
A time to eat fat
and oil, a time to gamble
for pennies and gambol
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We spent Sunday with Daniel, Adam, and Katherine -- first in Thurmont having lunch at Simply Asia with Paul's parents, then hiking on Catoctin, then having Chanukah dinner at my house with my parents, then watching The Prestige since Adam had discovered Katherine had never seen it and she'd been talking about the rival magicians in The Night Circus. Here are some photos!
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