The glass bottled Menorah,

behind me on the shelf

now holds drumsticks

that once held beer

and the beat

of songs

that I kept up with

as they exploded in rhythm

on stage,

like burning butterflies

dancing hotfooted

on the candles

I displaced;

the glass bottled menorah,

with peelable slogan

and memorable image,

empty of foam

but full of meaning.

Ian D. Hall 2016