Smoke shadow

There’s no movement, except a thread

of smoke throws a feathered shadow

on the far wall, electric’s gone dead,

the candle stands stock still, only its burning head

trembles a little within its diffuse halo.

The props for small talk, tables, chairs, party hats;

elbows off please, smiles on, preoccupied -

even smoke has shadows! how to trump that?

entire months fallen domino-flat

as the years windmill from side to side.