The flames flicker in front
of me and I watch
the candles begin to melt.
Each little wick
gives off its own gleam—
shining irises that stare straight back
at me.
Wax dribbles onto clean, smooth frosting
and I fight back tears
(what are you supposed to do—
with your hands and face, I mean—
when people are singing to you?)
Year after year,
another glowing eye
to stare at me;
another year of new friends,
tears,
hangouts,
dinners,
places to be,
moments to savor,
tests,
projects,
rehearsals,
arguments,
laughs.
Each wick a person to talk to,
or to look back at
and smile when I’m unsure of what to say.
Maybe to take a breath
and blow out all the candles
is to take it all in stride
and step forward
and promise to keep everything.