A Wide Ballroom Gown

*
Dancing down the street, small pointed shoes
on my feet, the sweep of a wide ballroom gown
billowing around me in soft layers of pink, scores
of dancers waltzing with me to the sound of Strauss
waltzes playing over headphones in my ears

Entering the library, pirouetting in the non-fiction section
bowing to Charles Fort, Prophet of the Unexplained
curtsying to Hal Lindsay explaining The Future of
Planet Earth, smiling at James Redfield offering
The Tenth Insight, flying high into the sky

When discovering Lobsang Rampa’s Third Eye, ending
in the arms of Paul Twitchell seriously regarding us from
the back page of his Spiritual Notebook, waltzing in strings
to the check-out counter, a treasure-trove of books to be
our bulwarks against endless official texts

The promised joy in the scintillating thoughts of deep
thinkers offering emotional succour and spiritual upliftment
to help me through the waterless desert of unsentimental
letters to the President…
*