The Singer
You ask me why I don’t sing
like I did when we were young?
My eyes smile
a liquid glance.
My feet create
a tenor that rises up in a chorus
of motion that exits
through my restless
breath.
I dance
with my thoughts and I listen
to them harmonize an affecting
carol that settles beside
my heart.
You ask me why
I don’t sing for you
as I did when we
were young?
Because today
I sing
for me.