The strums of yawn weave


    to a lull,


    A pair repeat a verse with a


    switch between high and low.


    To the beats, I see in


    my mind’s eye;


    A pair of deer bounding across


    an evening field.


    A field framed by a darkening


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.sapphire sky,


    In which the June sun’s gaze


    still has warmth.


    But also the fifth dance in a


    summer party,


    Where the participants flow in sync with


    notes and voices;


    Rhythmic flows and beats:


    This way first,


    Then second that.


    Perhaps it''s time to take up


    the offer and rejoin


    the Dance.