A Stranded Waltz

A poem

A Stranded Waltz
Witold Pruszkowski ‘Falling Star’ 1884 via Wikimedia Commons

IMOGENE’S NOTEBOOK

A Stranded Waltz

She found me again at a low point
when I needed reminders
just to draw breath
every once in a while
and give off as much light
as I caught, to balance
the dark and light around me
Such was my duty, after all
Until the fall

The ground quickly rising
from Hadean depths
to Icarian heights
and rocks below, croaking my name
as I looked for a perch
as I ached, and I searched

A stranger pulling up a chair
to make a deal — 
at my expense, or hers?
We made a strange pair, up there

But behind her eyes I found just pity
as she slid the piece of paper
across the sky

I knew she could put me out of my misery
Would, regardless of my signature
The choice she gave me then
was to make it painless
and I knew she wouldn’t offer it again

The ground met me
like the brutal end of a dream
or a waltz
stranded on a wrong note
yet a note of hope

Regardless, over

Up in flames

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