In another life, it seemed,
she danced with him
at the edge of the woods
where they met when leaves
seemed forever in returning
and in the morning were everywhere.
In another life, perhaps a dream,
they danced on the green commons,
their love exposed for everyone to see:
Red and raw, endless, poised for flight
at every turn, at any ready hour,
and changing seasons didn’t change.
Coming to herself for no good reason,
she found them standing high above
the dead leaves and bare branches
that love had become, wondering
at the emptiness, aware at last
that no one would hear her scream.
(after the 2021 digital collage Dance of the Vampires, by Catrin Welz-Stein)