If you dare try
dancing in a pumpkin patch
under eye of a harvest moon
side stepping spiraling vines
toasting stars with a gentle wine
find what hides in October’s fire lit sky
wear the orange of frivolity
wait until the wisest owl no longer sleeps
I can guarantee the utmost privacy.
There will not be a prince or frog
a black cat nor a broomstick witch
a glass slipper that did not fit
or any absurdity that will upstage your debut.
Dance like you were born to it.
Take that sequined purse
where you hide anxieties
shake it at full moon
unlatch its clasp and dance
until it balloons with the gold
from all rainbows ever seen
precious gems and salty pumpkin seeds.
In the reality of things
one is as spendable as the other.
Barter that stack of stones
for one more night before Jack
who never climbs out of his box
rises and cuts the pumpkin pie.