A little light pollution

It had been a lovely evening,
All birdsong and soft light.

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Now, it became the night;

Noisy with sirens in murky olive grey,
Punctuated by flashing blues and reds
And that malicious green that's
Quite untouched by nature.

I used to love the city,
Now I don't.
But with loss of love came indolence
And perhaps a little fear.
Would elsewhere be better?

Shall I be Queen of the May

Shall I wear the white dress

One more time?
Shall I be Queen of the May
With flowers in.my hair?

Will these withered fingers
Touch those lovely ribbons,
And the crooked legs dance the
Magic one last time?

Shall I wax and wane
Until the summer child
Emerges squirming
Into the morning light?

I think not.
Time and experience, my dear
Have taken all my dancing skills.
The dress has lost its gleam.

I'll toast the dancers,
Wish them well.
And then, being grateful for solitude,
Go back to my dream.