Evelyn Hew Poet Concrete

The Dance of Forgotten Dreams

like
                     shadows in
                  a slow-turning
                waltz, they drift—
             soft, unsummoned sighs
           from corners of the mind
         where dust forgets to settle,
       and yesterday pirouettes silently.
     dreams once bright now fade, tulle
   trailing in twilight, ankles kissed by
  cobwebs of sleep. Each step unwinds
 the golden thread of almost-memory,
   echoing rhythms never quite born,
     never quite gone. They circle,
        spiral, shimmer, vanish—
            the dance of
            forgotten
             dreams.

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