Turns of the Trade
Don't save for me the final dance.
I want to dance with you at once.
Next week you may move out of state,
Next month I may be off to war.
Let us dance to a joyful song
While the buildings are still standing,
Before our movements are dissolved,
Removed by injury or disease.
Let me watch your long hair floating
About your shoulders as you spin.
Let me see your blue and gentle eyes
Amused and smiling back at me.
Don't save the final dance for me,
For none can know when that may be.
