The Tireless Metronome- Poetry from the Helm- The U.S.S. MinnowPROSE!
We dance between the lines.
Writing a story with each step.
Trying to keep in time.
Some don't follow the rule.
To keep within the marker.
Those lines are a little bent.
Running from now to the after.
I held my own hand in this dance.
Watched the others turn and prance.
They always held so close and tight.
White knuckle grips around slender wrists.
Reaching into that odd flow.
I took what I wished, stolen glow.
We moved from the mundane, the norm, the bore.
And on the dancefloor cut our own score.
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