Clean-Up Ghosts

The confetti is settling on the ground, the lights dim

Standing in the middle of a clearing crowd, the bustling drifts.

Like a rock in the middle of the street, dancing away from the brooms,

Amidst the clean-up, a reflection shows.

Like the mirrored walls of Time’s Square.

Hallowed halls, a barren appearance, dressed in gray, reflecting the lights,

Monochrome dyed in technicolor is still a shade of gray.

Smiling brightly, wrapping others in warmth for a fleeting moment.

Until they turn away, inspiring warmth and care, a shining memory,

As the faces pass by, leaving the fiesta, they won’t remember the girl standing there.

The one who shuffled away, to let the children see, or gave up a seat with care.

Standing in the crowd, shuffling away, all alone.

Desiring the warmth of others, giving up a jacket to someone shivering, never to be returned.

A ghost of a girl, the mirror who reflects joy, the crystal girl who absorbs the mood of the night.

When the parade is done, the girl cleans the confetti, finds her jacket on the curb.

A girl with a smile so bright, and a tear reflecting the light.

Whispers so quietly the bleep of the cross signals drown her out.

“I wish you all the best… I wish, perhaps, you would see me next year.”

A girl with a story, cleaning up the party.

No one notices how the game is played, they just know a move is made.

One night the confetti fills the air, by morning it’s gone; no one cares.

A thankless task, a thoughtless pawn, bags of confetti disappear with the girl.

Once the lights turn off, monochrome is still a shade of gray.

Black and white, fades into the night.

Remembered by few, loved by many. A ghostly girl.

The clean-up crew rests when the night is gone.