- Non-Erotic Poetry
- A Last Dance
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Another place, another time
and maybe another world.
The late afternoon sunlight
filters through tattered curtains.
Dusty dance floor, our feet barely
slide in the smoke and dust
a light orange haze, we dance.
Maybe alone, maybe others
sitting along the wall.
Your head on my shoulder
nervously I lean, my lips
on your forehead, we drift.
Everyone gone, our last dance
we simply move to the music.
Perfect step, in perfect time
our step, our time, our breath
The music fades, sun wanes
as our shadows lengthen.
Our eyes meet, lips touch
we silently disappear.
- COMMENTS
Anonymousalmost 8 years agoGreat Poem with a just the right sizze too, not too long and not too short, just right as Goldie Luocks have said. Keep Going. Although I have to admet when I read that poem I imagin it either a Dance Studio that has not been used for a while or a monderen day couple that is imagining that they are dancing in an old 80's Danc Studio......
Again Keep up the good Job.......
duddle146over 17 years agoEvocative of the dance halls of the 1920's the old dime a dance days celebrated in the song, "10 cents a dance." Lovely melancholy mood with images to match. Beautiful!
BooMerengueover 20 years agoto the end of the Jersey Boardwalk days. Of ballrooms in the afternoon, of immigrants looking for what they had lost, of Bowery denizens pretending nothing was different. I truly liked this one! Thank you!
