I thought I wanted love

but what I really meant

 

was a fiddler in the kitchen–

the faces of our friends

 

flushed with wine

and laughter

 

and the floor scuffed

where we pushed back chairs and danced–

 

your eyes a question mark on mine

a half-note beyond the measure.

 

And all I ever really longed for

was right outside my door:

 

the leaves hurling themselves

like fool’s gold to the ground,

 

a csardas* of birds

swirling up with mournful sound,

 

and the minutes tapping out the time

in unmitigated, unrequited pleasure.

 

-From InSpirit

-All rights reserved

 Alinda Wasner

csardas-(pronunced cha-dr-dosh)-a dizzying Hungarian couple’s dance danced in a circle formed by many couples

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