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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