Might I Dance Here Awhile

By Patrick Hurley

 

Might I dance here awhile

          feeling the air

                    pushing the persistence

          motion

               not forced

                    rather, let loose

                         to expel

                                        potential

                                                  as

                                                       kinetic

Might you join me

               in

                    breathing

Not there,     not there,

                                   no

                                             it could only happen

                                                  when there is

               what was it

                         there, just a moment

                                        then

                              push

                                        to the point where

               is it,          is it

     can it be that there was a time

                                                       once

          do you,

                    do you

                                                  do

          you

                    please,     place your thoughts over there

     in the wicker basket by the hearth, where old news paper,

          kindling and thoughts of fires to be are kept

     there’ll be no dreaming

               no, no,          not now,          not here

     there will be

                    yes,          yes,

                         over there in the wicker basket,

               that’s right, place it there

     for burning

               It’s that smell

                              burnt wood,

                                        ash on hands

                    sulfur matches and kerosene

     But then with shallow eyes

                    looking into distant locations

     with eyes darker than the

          void

                    with          a               sense

     for               what               you’ve seen          and

          what               could                         be

     between now and that

          time               when

 

and I still see,

                    and I still see

               what thought was it we had

                              when shadows crept upon

                    these fire winds,     fire winds

          blowing back the palms

                    blowing back,               blowing back

          sand to glass

               we evolve to our own

                                   decay

     those          fire winds

                              blowing back

Was it here that we

                    was it,

                              was it

     yes,     place those thoughts

                         over there in the

                    box

               the fire winds are blowing

          and the cat before me

                    wants to play

 

 

Before this could happen we had to

     be somewhere

          then all things could come together

     just at the right moment,

                         save the chance,

          save the

                              random eyelash

               leading to the blink

                    to the missed signal

                         the twenty casualty crash

                              on your happy day

                                   on your side of the road

                                        your sunny spot delay

          save all your chaos

               in the closet

     there,

               locked in an old military foot locker

Tomorrow your dreams will

               blessed, blessed     vision of peace

     a vision only,          yet blessed all the same

 How hollow and ready to receive

               in its emptiness

     it’s still early

          Still early

                    Not there, not here, not

               these eyes had visions of

                    a world once, much larger

               than the world today

                         this hazy world

                                        this tomorrow

               this this

                    place it over there

          not here anymore

               we’ve moved past that

                    we’ve grown-up

                              remember

               grown-up

                    like those we laughed at

                         or those we wished to be

 

 


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Copyright© 2003 by Patrick Hurley.

Photo: uncwil.edu


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