Has bright yellow curls
that bounce with her spike heels
as she steps down from the stage
And takes her seat in shadow
by the stairs
that wind up to private booths
And smoothes the stiff ruffles
of her skirt, with its rose hue,
as the pulsing lights return
That leave between each flash
the small dark spots
that settle in her skirt
That her thin trembling hands
can no longer brush away
Comments
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This is lovely. The title had me fooled, but amoment of clarity struck after the second line; I like not knowing what to expect.
The tone is tender and warm and the descriptions perfectly vivid. Nicley done. , Dannie
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