This is all that remains
A box of spent breath
And when the dancing stopped
You bowed and then left.
I gathered my skirts
And after you sped
Last view of your coat-tails
I curtsied too late.
Your coat wasn’t caught
On a nail at the door
It could have…..It should have
I’ll see you no more.
This is all that remains
A box of minced songs
And when the singing stopped
You’re gone and I long.
