Dance, fool, dance

I found this hat
unaware of how it came to be
perched on a railing.

Two lovers
slouched in the discount
Thursday matinee
doing as lovers do

Dance, Fool, Dance

close eyed –
he fantasised
Joan Crawford tap-dancing
towards outstretched arms

she pulled away
interrupting his dream

‘I’m pregnant’

‘really? That’s great’

‘great?’

a half kiss.

‘wait here’ he said.

The plot having thickened
beyond recollection,
she watched the nonsense

then it ended.

and she waited.

she gathered
her coat
her scarf
and his flat cap

she looked around the foyer
and she emerged in the daylight

she walked

and left his hat
for me to find

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