Ladies Night

December 21, 2008 § Leave a comment

 

The crowds of men
are parting waves.
Beneath the earth
come the dancers.
A voice rings-
Silence.
One marches
through the crowd
between the present and the past.
A pillar stands…
He is beautiful-
The stranger freezes,
blinded by smoke;
His limbs are stiff.
No escaping…
He is caught
in rhyme, in rhythm.
The notes in the sky
are shadows of his shoes.
His life is a mystery,
a never ending song…
As I follow beauty
in sync-
to thunder
near and far…

 

© Sonya Rose

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