let us dance
just you and me
across the cracked and worn wood floor
and through the dark and musty air
of this ancient, deserted ball room
where women better than you
and men better than me
once met and loved
and returned
to dance
again and again
let their ghostly presence be
a constant reminder
of how the minute waltz
can last forever

Time passes; it does.
ReplyDelete"...women better than you and men better than me...."
Strange; isn't it? We see the past, and imbue it with a nostalgia that, while undeserved, at least soothes our memory....