366 Poems: October 28th, 2016

Halloween Swing Dance

When the jazz band plays

and the crowd sees me walk out

in a tight flapper dress,

even the ghosts will agree

that tonight is the night for a dance.

A grand parade of swirling skirts

as outside the ghosts and goblins skip

with open bags.

But ours is a different kind of haunting.

It’s one of low tones

spilling out of trombones, xylophones,

and piano keys like clinking bones.

A mood on the stage

that represents the Golden Age

and a smile in the band that shines

just for me.

It’s an interesting way

to spend a frightening


but this girl would rather not haunt alone.

“31 DOH: Dixieland Skeletons”


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