NOT FOR LACK OF MUSIC
She hosts a host of
concerts of many genres
in her core, daily,
hourly, or even
moment-by-moment. And in
those moments, she’s moved
but she doesn’t move.
Not really. Oh, perhaps she
sways. Shifts her shoulders
imperceptibly.
She’s intimate with rhythm.
She knows which music
begs an offbeat tap.
She was likely introduced
long before her birth.
Drum cadence stirs her.
Jazz makes her long to sing. Swing.
Waltz softens her eyes,
behind which she glides
across an icy-smooth floor.
She, frozen in place.
Perhaps she will dance
with moonbeams on the wall, while
the house is asleep.
© Marie Elena Good, 2021
The idea of dancing with moonbeams on the wall while the house is asleep is from “TOM’S BEACH, Scène Fourteen: A View Inside Out,” by brilliant poet Marilyn Braendeholm. More of her work may be found here: The Journal – Random. Thoughts. Notes. (wordpress.com) .
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