Dancers Return

By Terry Lowenstein

They waltz on fallen leaves
in buildings that once shone bright.
Now reduced to skeletal remains.
Plantation walls stand by sheer will
under a mystic roof of onyx sky.

Magnolias line forgotten paths
silent sentinels of what was.
Spanish moss drapes windows
replacing the finery of the past.

Forgotten melodies echo,
through halls abandoned
long ago by the living.
Faces and names
remembered by stone,
return and dance once more.

Listen to their laughter in the wind,
whispers of innocence and youth
cotillions, debutante balls,
soirees and celebrations;
resurrected by moonlight.

Moonlight and Spanish moss.
Magnolia trees and a soft wind
that floats through the air.