And dancing, they were,

 

The two girls, and the boy

 

Caring not about time,

 

That seemed not to pass by

 

 

 

They noticed not, that not a stare

 

Was aimed at them

 

Just dancing there

 

 

 

And when they stopped

 

They glanced around

 

But not a hand

 

did render sound

 

 

 

“how rude,” Tom whispered to the girls

 

They nodded in despair

 

They’d labored hard on this late piece

 

Rehearsed for hours with great care

 

 

 

But in an instant, it came clear

 

And looking once again

 

The room that hosted their premier

 

They found, had met its end

 

 

 

The ashes blowing in the wind, they knew

 

Remained from wood, and bone

 

The floor was black, with soot and slack

 

The three were left, alone

 

 

 

As memory seeped back to their souls

 

The disaster brought that day

 

Re-inflicted upon their faces was sorrow

 

And cried, did little Mae

 

 

 

The elder two, young Tom and Mary

 

Exchanged a knowing glance

 

They knew they had forgot before

 

The atrocity of past

 

 

 

“It’ll be alright,” comforted Tom

 

And just as May looked up,

 

Mary’s hand rose to her ear

 

And said she: “Oh, what’s that I hear?”

 

 

 

And as Mae strained to hear a sound

 

That had so long been gone

 

Mary nodded, as did Tom

 

“Can’t you hear it? that’s our song!”

 

 

 

And danced they did,

 

Into the night

 

Just as they had before

 

And as they danced,

 

Their audience stepped,

 

Right through the non-existent door

 

 

 

They twirled and spun and stepped

 

for none

 

Just as their ashes in the air

 

And no one saw the two girls, and the boy

 

No one saw them dancing there