Spotlight

The embers smouldered like stars in the night sky;

Yet the overcast sky and the thick smoke hid the stars.

As the wind from the southeast sent chills down my whole body,

My mind slowly raced; slowly looked for answers.

The cars rolled down Highway 60,

Over the hill, their headlights appeared prior

To the vehicle itself. They shone into the thick air,

Illuminating all the smoke, all the nothing.

The soft, calm music accompanied the crackling coals the fire.

A loud sound interrupted the aesthetic moment,

A plane flew overhead with spotlight drifting behind it.

However distracting it was, it was interesting.

“Where is my cigar?” asked my grandpa.

There was only one place he could have set it.

We walked with flashlights, pacing back and forth.

Our hope deceived us repeatedly; it was nowhere to be found.

“Could it be in the fire?” I suggested.

He insisted not.

It had to be in there! Yet

It was nowhere to be found.