Tap Dancing on Puddles
\nVCS <\/p>\n
He went out the door at noon
\nHe arrived at the pub at two
\nBy three or four he was playing billiards
\nAfter seven in the evening
\nHe couldn’t recall
\nIf he’d told his wife
\nWhere he’d been off to
\n(She tended to get mad at his leaving)
\nWith his blood pumping heat
\nfrom his head to his feet
\nHe walked home in the snow
\nNorthern lights overhead casting
\nTheir spelling, singing like crackling glass
\nLighting his gaunt face in their green and pink glow
\nLike a tap dancer he skipped across a puddle of ice
\nWith the grace of Gene Kelley
\nAnd now one to see
\nThe voice of a pipe organ
\nHe serenaded the moon
\nUntil he came to the front door
\nOf his own little home and remembered
\nThat Marjorie hadn’t been told
\nThat he’d been gone since noon
\n(Or more importantly she hadn’t told him
\nthat she was okay with him coming home
\nby the light of the north and the moon)<\/p>\n
The door creaked on its hinges
\nThe house looked deceptively at peace
\nBut he knew that Marjorie would not likely
\nHave gone to bed so soon
\nPeering with wide eyes
\nHe took off his crushed fedora from his
\nCreased working man’s brow
\nand tossed it into the dark by the couch<\/p>\n
His breath blew out of him in clouds in the cold
\nHe rubbed his arms for warmth
\nAnd cursed in a whisper
\nAs his hat
\nLike a miracle
\nFlew back to his hand<\/p>\n
Marjorie was awake and her message was plain:
\nHe was not welcome here until the ‘morrow
\nSweet bottles of sorrow
\nHe closed the door with a prayer
\nTo the God of his fathers
\n(That he said he didn’t believe in but
\nhe prayed to all the same)
\nAnd tap dancing over
\nThe frozen puddles
\nHe went to find a couch
\nTo sleep what was left of the night away <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Tap Dancing on Puddles VCS He went out the door at noon He arrived at the pub at two By three or four he was playing billiards After seven in the evening He couldn’t recall If he’d told his wife Where he’d been off to…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":34,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[13],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-34033","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-miscellaneous"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/34033","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/34"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=34033"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/34033\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":34176,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/34033\/revisions\/34176"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=34033"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=34033"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=34033"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}