The Dance Around Me (Poem)

Love and friendships are mysterious indeed.

I am walking in the dark and often fall over the gravestones

That are etched with the friends and relationships I’ve lost.

I’m no sage and possess not even the wisdom of a fool.

In these areas I am a child still, gazing in wonder

At the elaborate movements of the dancers around me.

They step and turn with practiced abandon but seldom do they stumble.

Yet sometimes one will stop and turn to me:

“I need your advice, please.”

Astonished and usually bewildered, I haltingly speak a few words.

Truly though, I prefer to say nothing. I’ve no idea how to caper so.

I’m doing well to walk.

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