We catch ourselves waltzing in the dark
Air the room
Pass the ghostly tree
Fire the gun
Lose our way
All just a chime
A strange smell
Billabong shade
A gleeful drink
We want to chatter in fear
Find the words
Make it ring now
Come in order
Shoved alive
All just a story waiting to be told
We want to dance
Not be afraid
Easier said than done
The night wraps its claws around our neck
Draws our breath
We sink into the bed
Dust off the powder
Pour a drink
It is quiet
Deadly
We dream of music and false feet
We catch ourselves waltzing in the dark.
A wonderful poem, Jae. I love the wanting to dance, and note the dreaming of "music and false feet." Better to dance and stumble than never dance at all, say I, brandishing my cane, and hobbling. Smiles. It is always lovely to read you, my friend. Dance on!
ReplyDeleteSshh! Don't tell a soul but I was a hopeless dancer. My wife felt it was better if she led! You always give your readers such imagery in you writing Jae. I almost sat this one out.
ReplyDeleteSome good images, indeed.
ReplyDeleteA lovely vision!!oxoxox
ReplyDeleteeatonomyils
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