Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Waves (poem)

I sit at the milonga, not dancing.
I'm not my usual self.
The cold November breeze
Has taken me off to a warm beach.
The waves crash behind me,
As I turn, 
looking back to land,
Where you stand waving.
The beach is the warm, sunny place
Where I have you in my mind.
You take off your sun glasses,
You bite one end of the frame,
And your eyes are laughing.
Your mouth’s wry smile says
You are happy to see me, and more.
And then the waves of reality hit me,
Reminding me that you are gone.
I stand and leave for home.
I'll dance in my kitchen tonight.
What other thing can I do
To treat this pain in my heart?

November Breeze


  1. Man you are going to make me pick up my old pen and start pouring my heart again, pretending to be a poet :-)
    Thanks for being a man solidly grounded in his emotion my friend, and a fellow milonguero to be.

  2. Hi Dieudonne ... your first visit to my blog found me being melancholic. Mostly I am not this way. I love writing a few tango poems now and then. You were asking about musical concepts. I suggest you go back in November and check out some musical ideas about the tango waltz.


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