Shadows Dancing
Petrarchan sonnet

This ancient drum, pounding anew
samples the past into a fresh song,
where old melodies and original rhythms belong,
melting down my core, forging me into something new.
Fear and longing beat a tattoo,
weaving into a bassline of torturous wrong
while prosaic life drudges me along
in this suffocating absence of you.
Redemption pirouettes on the periphery where my mind reaches.
You jitterbug through my memory;
shadows of us dance the Charleston on beaches,
lonely, low-tide beaches stretching out to where the sea should be,
the vast expanse of emptiness preaches
your inevitable ebb from me.
About the Creator
Harper Lewis
I'm a weirdo nerd who’s extremely subversive. I like rocks, incense, and all kinds of witchy stuff. Intrusive rhyme bothers me.
I’m known as Dena Brown to the revenuers and pollsters.
MA English literature, College of Charleston



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