I Chase Good Times

It’s said that one should make oneself,

one’s home, a castle of self-sustaining comfort and joy.

But I’m not made of matches or flint

so I chase the good times down highways

following the silver trail of sparks

from somebody else’s fireworks party. Then I dance.

I dance because it feels so good to dance

I dance because my body cannot resist dancing.

I dance because I want to savor this music

like a butterscotch caramel as long as it lasts.

In the back of the taxi, the musky sweat of dancing

lingers on my skin, glittering like stardust.

From The Sunday Muse

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Written for The Sunday Muse, Shay’s Word Garden Word List, and Poets and Storytellers United.