a private dance outside a coffeeshop at 7am [poem]

a private dance outside a coffeeshop at 7am [poem]

she dances
in front
of the big store window
red hair swirling
white earphones gleaming
bulky sweatshirt of lincoln green
black leggings
bulky sneakers with fluorescent orange trim

she isn’t lost in her revere
she is absorbed by the music
she dances to rhythms
only she can hear
but her moves are precise
flawless
clearly carefully choreographed
she uses the big store window
as a mirror
making the sidewalk
her dance studio

the big glass window
once belonged to
a travel agency
now closed
due to the pandemic
such is life
but the muses
demand their sacrifice

I drink my coffee
and watch her dance
a little joy
in the morning
never hurt anyone

 

 

© Buzz Dixon

 

Playtime [FICTOID]

Playtime [FICTOID]

Ce n'est pas un fictoïde [FICTOID]

Ce n'est pas un fictoïde [FICTOID]

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