I did not dance,

That day at half-light,

My mind swayed instead.

My father’s voice spoke,

Tongue twisting trepidation,

It awoke.

Impatient fingers incessantly

Reached to the end,

Returning us to terrific Ten o’clock air.

 

We were eyes open wide, dangerous,

Burrowing trenches behind light, before morning air

I did not dance; the very edge of the world, the outer ring

Shivered

And a skyline, sky-lark, war siren, started to sing.