May Day

First of May

and ghosts dance the pole;

memories of ribbons

entwined

enshrined in sepia photographs.

Dancers, web making,

patterns of interwoven lives

twisting together

and moving on

in and out of other ribbons,

other lives.

Red, green, yellow and blue,

colours lost in time,

networking,

working a mesh

of moments and music,

embracing and separating,

a tent of lifetime.

Bystanders applaud

the intermingling,

ignorant of the trauma

of mismatched feet

treading the paths of rehearsal.