They Were Both Alone Poem by Brian Sonberg

Submarine dreams
Sink like candlelight.

Sputtering wicks
Speak only in epiphanies.
Too low to be audible,
Their rants passed off
As idle chatter.

Still, light licks at dark corners
Comforting mourners
In their times of need.

The anti-bride walks the aisle,
This time alone.
Only candle wax for company.

Low moans mark shrouded faces
Who share her grief;
A collection of fair-weather
Vultures with an excuse to dress up.

But the soft as silk footsteps that
Saddle cobbled stairs
Are only hers and echoes
Of the one she sends away.