I carry my heels, ragged straps
dangle from my fingertips
as I wait for the light rail.
Next to last train
before I tuck the night to bed.
I can still hear the music from the club
feel the vibration under my feet
and I sway to the rhythm
of the last song I danced to.
I once read your ears have memory
your brain absorbs the pattern of sounds
and the lights and boom will sneak
in every ringtone, speaker announcement.
On the way home, and I will lean back
imagine one more dance,
for one more night, before
they close the club down one last time
and this ride home will be
the next to last one.
Poetic Trials 