Morning of the Disco
Music sounding sweetly from two speakers,
Two friends with books and one with the paper
And nothing but poetry pressing me
Combine for peaceful relaxation and
A moment more calm than the blue June sky.
And then it’s lost. Gone, perhaps forever.
The music drowned out, paper rustled shut.
Authority’s footsteps pound to the door,
Pause... then pace around the hall, echoing
The message of jobs to be completed.
I rise to seek scissors and tape-measure.
We cut black sheets to cover the windows.
Blue skies are lost to a hall of shadows.