What do waltzes do if the music’s all gone-
What whispers they’d tell if an end’s to a song?
What dances might say if there’s joy in their chest-
What voices they’d voice if there’s wine in their step?
What shadows may spin as they’re leaving the floor-
What lies they would craft or what tales they’d unfold?
And what would I ask as I swayed to the sound
Of music that I know once played sharp and loud?

I’d ask a whisper for a waltz
And voices, steps in time-
I’d ask a shadow for a dance
But dances are all mine.

I’d ask a waltz to whisper seeds
And dance, to voice its thoughts-
I’d ask a ghost to chat with me
And wait for words I sought.