The strums of yawn weave

  to a lull,

  A pair repeat a verse with a

  switch between high and low.

  To the beats, I see in

  my mind’s eye;

  A pair of deer bounding across

  an evening field.

  A field framed by a darkening

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  sapphire sky,

  In which the June sun’s gaze

  still has warmth.

  But also the fifth dance in a

  summer party,

  Where the participants flow in sync with

  notes and voices;

  Rhythmic flows and beats:

  This way first,

  Then second that.

  Perhaps it's time to take up

  the offer and rejoin

  the Dance.

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