It’s cold inside this old house
Empty, save the spiders who weave
They create connections in open space
Keeping me company without making contact
Alone, I brood over lost opportunity
Many a moment slipped through unnoticed
My grasp on success too loose
In the darkness, candlelight dances around
Welcome motion in this wicked silence
I imagine joining the soiree myself
Shaking out these aching, mistreated bones
Willing myself a pirouette,  petite jete
Humming melodies of memory, swiveling hips
Once upon a time I was
And, perhaps, I still can be
Something inside awakens, renewing forgotten passion
Arachnid eyes peer at sudden movement
Creeping deeper into corners in surprise
Life is not over, not yet
This one isn’t ready to stop.
Fervently continuing my twirl and twist
Feeling the heat of renewal build.
Leaping out of thoughts, I begin
Determining to make dreams my reality.

Inspired by the Six Word Fridays meme. The focus is “one.”

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