fifty now

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I know in hushed song

Century-old wood floors will herald in new dancers 

Learned souls, unphased by farewells and long shadows and dusk

Owning eyes unwilling to shade out the blinding unknown of each new dawn 

And the lies of lavender walls will be a thing for the past


Expectant 

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my Society
thought little of me

accept the breadcrumb trail
beg for a Holy Grail 

return home empty handed
scraps to be demanded

now I know what’s true
honor is for me too

my heart the goldest medal
demands that I not settle