The Revivalist (Poetry)

She dances in her room at night
to old songs on her stereo
a pink shade throwing gentle light
her shadow swaying to and fro.

She warms herself on memories
conjured from much kinder days
and hums along with melodies
that soothe her as the music plays.

She thinks of him and wonders where
he is after so many years
imagines grey now steels his hair
as lost youth’s vigour disappears.

She uses tunes to keep them close
despite cold miles that stretch between
she waltzes with her well-loved ghost
and makes believe she’s seventeen.

She dances ’til the hour’s late
it’s time for him to walk her home
one kiss beside the garden gate
lights out and into bed — alone.