The Dance We Shared
By: Jason T. McGuire

Sleepless hours, in morning light,
you climb out the window
too where you belong.

A ninety-eight Cutlass Supreme
sits without light,
except for the red glow in the air.

The smoke blows out of control
and the kids wonder,
where their mother went.

In the evening light the neighbors
wonder, "What ever happened to
the smokeless love that they shared?"

Sirens blared into wild scream,
and I was found with you,
For one last dance.