| |
Dancers On the Mezzanine
Splash fast colors across the sun
red horizon,day is done
swirl a drip of azure blue,
with indigo for me and you
drip down on my ice cream cone
berry tasty, windy blown
cotton candy wrapped around
cardboard rolled up
by a clown
Dancing ponies in the dark
tiny bells that catch a spark
from the midnight candles lit
by a child who wouldn't quit
dancing on the mezzanine
with his older teenage queen
wearing beaded pantaloons
that she wore on afternoons
in museums cold and still
when she had some time to kill
'ere she traversed all alone
down that darksome way back home
so regretful by the sea,
staring out but could not free
any fragment of her soul
ageless,timeless, growing old
Falling open like a womb
giving birth to wrath and gloom
turning back to condescend
to think about what might have been
underneath the midnight sun
red hot rhythms on her tongue
she speaks a string of colored lights
to light her way back home tonight.
on dancing ponies in the dark
tiny bells that catch a spark
from the midnight candles lit
by a child who wouldn't quit.
Copyright ©
Johnette Loefgren
|