The Dance by Hannah Pedersen
Clouds formulate over the darkening sky
her bare feet moving with the gusts flying by
the red dress close to his hands, feeling their future.
The help lost to the sides, forever it seems.
For years they will look back, old, tired, and gray.
with heartbreak in their eyes, wishing they could stay.
what was felt could not be described in words,
with teary cheeks, they smile, burnt with remorse.
The waves played the song, the body swayed too
in step with another, a life to come true
the rain was much harder now, strong, yet dull
but a new future can’t be created
By clinging to a photographed past,
years had gone by, like the sands on that shore
never visited again, but always adored
the maid in her dress, clutching her white hat
the butler tall, humming to pass the time
the couple, young, ignoring their discomfort
holding hands now, reflecting on their lives
while the days and umbrellas, gone without sight
the old couple sits, remembering the night
the clock on the walls ding, synchronizing
families of their own, the future was shared
days go on, detaching from what they once felt
the framed strangers dust and dance in decay
meetings, plans, and children take place
dreams of breakfast, mundane and diseased.
Taking cover with the help is no care
a hospital bed awaits, like the umbrella was shared
only them, entities in their love song,
a muted orchestra waits for the song.
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