The Dance

I see the old house that sleeps under its roof

Victorian tent with snake immobile slates

Pixeled scales once violet and white

Now gently faded like an ancient quilt.

The rain has made its purifying work

Year after year, but the roof is still

A fancy ballroom for the birds to enjoy.

The night appears and pries into the walls

And I hear music spinning in 3/4.

Cheering remarks and the laughter of toasts,

And I decide to join the night and pry.

But there´s no one; just the rhythm of joy.

"Let´s dance the dance" a dancing voice invites me

And that´s all I remember of that night:

Only the bliss remains with me, for life.