Everything seemed to arrive and hunch in
cold shadows; their words cut away kindness
as if it crowded the need for survival.
The world’s demons set them awry,
every day a forgetting of the rich marrow of life,
and night offering a hunger for solace that
was left empty promises. They sprawled
inside gaps and creases of sleeplessness,
dreamed of finer love or loss of it.
But as day broke open and music flew
under the clouds, they gave up and danced;
the mad din muted, then fell away.
Their movement stirred wild breath of sky,
and warmth glistening on throats and brows,
light scouring vision so a long view was seen.
Careful at first, a slip here then a turn,
hands to waist or back, chest to chest,
bodies tender and strong:
they stood in concert again.
It was a beckoning to joy that drew them,
each step a reclamation of freedom:
a low dip–glimmer of good intention,
a twirl and sidestep–preludes to all
most valued being reclaimed.
They found a way back in a re-fashioned waltz,
as sudden dancing must not be denied
if the hound of chaos will not quit.
An embracing–rooftop or kitchen, cafe or park–
is meant as reprieve. A rescue.
A witness to goodness, a window to hope.
It may mean other dangers are skirted but
love is bestowed like this, hand to palm,
feet a quartet of action, hearts tapping
with easy precision, spirits like kites victorious:
they would, each to the other, belong again.