I started my poem with the first line out of "Some Days" by Billy Collins
Some days I put the people in their places at the table,
their faces glowing,
laughing,
they are all eating and clanking their dishes with delight.
What makes the company of friends feel so warm?
The women's glimmering jewelry sends prisms on the walls,
their dry and pungent perfume soaks the air.
And the men, with their pressed and crisped jackets croak and grunt at conversation.
Each person seems to be tailored for the night,
locked in and completely in place.
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