Candlelight Poem by Matt Mooney

There is nothing left behind
Of our evening's get together
But the candles lighting
For the congregated
Who have just vacated
The tables in white linen
And the waltzing is all over
In the room of great windows
Looking down on the river
That embraces the racecourse
And its ripe and ready meadow
Waiting for the balers' coming
To change its profile picture
And make it all the better
To be seen by others later
From this treasury of memories
Of fair maidens and tall mirrors.