I remembered this morning that there had been a life between us, holding us tightly as if  a private gravity, personal and rollin’ steady, like ” a circle ’round the sun.”

Today breaks over the ridge, shadowing the valley road. Each morning is a gift these dwindling days, a  4/4 rhythm in the dancehall of runaway time. “Dance me outside.”  a favorite local writer once said.  Waltz me one more time under night bright western skies is what I say.

Listen close, hear the far off sounds of saxophones playin’ soft, of dinner dishes settlin’ in the sink, of  sweet music in the kitchen. There are shadows dancin’, lighting up the wall.

Photograph by Michael Lebowitz ©2010