Falling asleep with the candles on

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Back in Germany, Eberhard was like a floor warden in his vest he was so anal about my mom burning candles in the house. The place is 500 years old and all wood, there is that, and because it gets so comfortable with the glow and the wine you kind of lose track of details (which is kind of the point)—I found myself trying to recreate that tonight in our den with the Tiffany lamps, the moon plumping up, a scented Yankee candle I bought on sale, some Bach cello concerto—everything I could do to comfort myself from the reality of reality TV, that’s no reality for me. That feeling many probably have they just want to go somewhere and hide.

The moon is on her side tonight, has that look of the subject in The Scream, some universal pain and isolation so many of us feel that goes unseen, that’s ours to hold, to swallow…or is it just the same as so many other subjects, the moon? We only see ourselves in it as just another mirror, and can’t see past our own reflection.

About pinklightsabre

William Pearse publishes memoir, travel journals, poetry and prose, and lives in the Pacific Northwest.
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4 Responses to Falling asleep with the candles on

  1. We’ve had Bach cello suites on yesterday and today, and it does help, doesn’t it? Watching a lot less cable news now, since, what difference does it make?

    “The moon is on her side tonight …” Superbo!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. rossmurray1 says:

    I started with “Twentieth Century Man” by The Kinks and backed it up with “And the Healing Has Begun” by Van Morrison. It seemed to help.

    Like

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