Dusty Days

Come rise
And with me dance
Among the dust motes,
That lift above
The surface of the past.

Remember long ago
The Bario Gottico
The dancing colours
On a blond boys hair.
Pale pink and green
On paving stones
The winding pattern
On the circling stair.

All is dark
Save for the single
Shaft of light
That beckons
To the heat and dust,
The teem of city life.

JL August 3. 12:56