Party

He shakes his silvered head
like an old stallion comprehending
little but oats and sugar cubes.

Gaiety surges around tables:
white water roaring past
giant solitary boulders.

Servers bring salads, cheeses
lasagnas, chicken, roast boar—
tastebuds decline, overwhelmed.

A tango brings suits and gowns
suddenly animate to the floor
grannies rock chairs in rhythm.

Words crash against walls of sound
come in spurts like short wave radio:
politics, health, squirrels at feeders.

He remembers shaking his shiny mane
sharing nuzzled confidences,
warm sun instead of this winter.

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About riverwriter

Poet, playwright, duplicate bridge player, website designer, cottager, husband, father, grandfather, former athlete, carpenter, computer helper for my friends, theatre designer, backstage polymath, retired teacher of highschool English, drama, art, a baritone singer in a barbershop quartet, who knows what else? wordcurrents is on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/wordcurrents/ Doug also has a Facebook page, "Incognitio", related to his novels.
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