I Came Not to Dance

 

 

I came not to dance

 

but stumble

across your rough road

 

ignored by whichways

 

ah! I still cast the line –

 

it streams like golden

thread - a lofting

 

in slow bends and arcs

 

the waters saunters-

by

caressing my

 dirty pretty feet

 

if pirouetting could

 

tiptoe – it would be

silent enough to

 

call you home –

 

Linda Cabot