Poem: The Last Dance

By Bronwyn Locke

Poem: The Last Dance

Gentle man, take your position for the last dance.


An aging glide across the back door

And you’re there, home at last

The old familiar.


A waltz to the ‘Lady in Red’?

A pirouette with your pills?

A footloose flutter on the horses?


You have always danced lightly on this earth

Just one more dance before you leave us Blue Eyes

I want a last grasp at your quiet wisdom

Feel it as we dance

As you have danced – respectfully, thoughtfully and lovingly.


Don’t leave me to dance alone

You are my old familiar

Be my lead in your last dance as you sashay in your dance of death


Gentle man, take your position for your last dance.


Bronwyn Locke

Greytown, NZ


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