Restaurants and lights

#19 Restaurants and lights

I insist on pretty things of
colours you may choose.
A hint of every time you lift your head,
wax the light and warm yourself
with olive, lamb and delight. Weave me
another, I share with you
my pride, my fork and empty plate.

You gift me a life,
arguments of a generation, wasted,
you remain. Our world moves in,
we stand away from the glow.