All together

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

The steady march of boots on ground,

like countless drumming, thumping sounds,

in time with one the other too

left and right and right on through.

Three of four and keys not meant

for doors. Signings writ for loans not spent

bars where drinking can’t be done

and staffs you can’t quite lean on.

Ballrooms filled with twirling forms

arms around the other clasped

rhythm here is present too

to dance is what they came to do.

Around a stone all crowded close,

rain and shadows in repose,

here as well together lies

the wand’ring strands of family ties.