In the candlelight, in the morning
Sunday in January, day of rest,
the boys played guitar in the kitchen.
Doing dishes, I watched in peace,
unnoticed like a fly on the wall,
but happy to watch
in the silence of my heart.
I thought upon our times together
as a family, the lost times,
the times we’ve caught up on over the past three years,
and the times in between, like Granny’s funeral –
bittersweet. Things are starting to change;
our trees will grow.
The curtains are drawn and light is dim;
in the warmth, the guitar music and the candlelight;
tears fill my eyes, unnoticed still
but I am glad.
The beeswax candle melts into a small pool on the table –
time to get ready for Mass.
Angela Olejnik is a student working toward a degree in English Literature and History. She has been writing for the past three years but is a newcomer to the world of publishing. She reverted to the Catholic faith several years ago after a profound conversion experience and lives near Knock Shrine, County Mayo, in the west of Ireland. Her poetry can be found on Instagram under the username constellations.in.the.night.