Month: September 2007

A Last Waltz, Rev. 2

Her fingers dance along The steps of her favorite waltz Coming to her ears Floating on a legendary river She counts: One, Two, Three And enters her reverie She sees the soft green eyes Repeats the dizzy spell Of a night in her distant past Rescued by his agility The strength so subtle Of a charming dancer Whose name she forgot It feels like New Year in Vienna The images of people in black and white The angels of her mind Counting to midnight On a monumental clock Their feet glide unencumbered On the powdered floor A fine dancer, she thinks The palm of her right hand Barely touching his left Their fingers curling Towards a desired embrace If only she could break the rules But the clock strikes midnight Her eyes open to the present Darkness she recognizes Aches and discomfort A reality she can evade Counting: One, Two, Three To see him, touch him, feel him Once more Waltzing into infinity