Shadows Dance Poem by Mark Heathcote

Shadows dance in the mist, trees and leaves
dance like a woman removing her dress
a floral one-piece, fall's—drifts in the breeze
a swirling ballet dancer with finesse;
pirouetting on toes—goes round and round.
A music box of rustling windings down
all turning gold red to a russet brown
by this mystical world, looked on dumfound.
Why see devils when tornados take reign?
And then angels in a cumulus cloud
yes, shadows dance in a woman's refrain,
but ah, how she sustains her love when vowed.
Give me shadows-crisscrossing a meadow
that weaves magic here in my bone's marrow.