Listening For Thunder

Lights dim in the hall as the band packs its instruments away and the remaining dancers, stalling for time, shuffle towards the closing door of summer, talking in low tones about next year. All, except for two Gerbera daisies in a pot by the entrance, late bloomers who have suddenly found their own silent music.

We’re fools whether we dance or not, so we might as well dance. —Japanese Proverb

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