Wartime Dance Hall

around the dim     smoky hall
over worn wooden floor
in a poppy-red dress
with a skirt that twirled
she danced alone
drunk on floating music
couples waltzed    kissed in corners
intoxicating sultry sax     tinkling keys
she swayed     whirled
revering in time past
when her soldier
was not a ghost

war, dancing, music

About Rita Simpson

Twenty years ago, Rita Simpson came to Calgary from Saskatchewan to attend a wedding, and was so taken with the mountains that she stayed. She has been a closet writer since the second grade. She is primarily a prose writer, but through the influence of friends, she started writing poetry two years ago, and though she finds a lot of poetry pretty elusive, it nonetheless draws her like those mountains.

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