Dancing Gay Foot Steps Poem by James McLain

I trod lightly, homophobic world
behind iron bars
where you put me, loving.

Cold bare walls
though they be weeping
white the sleeping snow.
Melted hearts pulled apart
where roses dare not grow.

Quite grows they I can hear
what others said before.
I have not come tis morning ere
a distant thunder roared.

The well mowed felds of living oaks
move slowly back twords me
gently gathered up I am now felled.

I am at rest, I to was young
one other with this secret
turns away
to face a certain frightful date.

I have danced at my last dance
forevers not to long,
my name they carved in stone.