SINK (?)

 

While visions of sugar plums danced in the head, 

wondered would it matter if living or dead. 

Some fat, some skinny, some short, some tall; 

no matter the song – danced with them all.

Moments bitter, memories sweet; 

enchanted in illustrious delight to meet; 

sweeping willows from their head to their feet. 

Feared yesterday to come and say goodbye, 

not nary a heart did nil draw nigh.

-DeMaster Thomas (2011)