In the place where an embarrassed silence falls,
I put a candlestick or a water glass.
–Yannis Ritsos, Monochords
it’s simple objects
that matter, a candle
lit on the windowsill,
the ceiling light off
so the glare dissolves
and the faces relax.
It’s still silent, but different.
The couple at the kitchen table
reach out to a glass of water
which has begun to inch
across the oilcloth.
Vincent Wixon’s recent book of poems is Laying By, from Flowstone Press. Previous volumes include Blue Moon: Poems from Chinese Lines and The Square Grove. He co-edited Sound of the Ax, a collection of William Stafford aphorisms and poems. Vincent Wixon lives in Ashland, Oregon.