• Ballet For The Dead

    Every night when the moon smiles down
    Upon the earth
    A little grackle and his master
    They travelled across the plains.
    Graves upon graves they danced and soared
    As voices sung in the night sky
    Of soothing lullabies
    Of placid lamentations.
    This they had come to call
    The Ballet for The Dead
    A touch of grace from the midnight Child
    Sanctified by the moonlight’s kiss.
    Round and around the dancer went
    Whilst the little grackle circled in unison
    From earth to sky
    They took off into oblivion.

    (c) D.Franco 05/06/11