Short Parade

The tipsy gypsy
dances in the street
people throw money
at her feet
that’s not why she’s there
she lets it lay
dancing away toward
another day

the chrome gnome follows
picking it up
to buy her bread
and wine in a cup
he wants to be close
to a heart so free
and feel the music
only she sees

it’s a short parade
with no destination
constantly spreading
stardust pollen
they don’t stick around
to see their creation
the flowers pop up
where the coins
have fallen

If you’re given the fire
which does not consume
you’ll be tempted to hide it
alone in your room
rather go to the street
in the cool night air
the gnome and the gypsy
will meet you there


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