Sweet scent of sunlight
dances tango on my hip,
dapples spun by curdled clouds
tattoo my croning feet.
Behind a flimsy veil
Cassandra sings eternity.
I turn my back
glide deeper into dance.
Sunday - Watercolor by Sue from Gallery
Dance ~ Prompt by Sunday Scribblings
Cusp of Sunday was previously published in North of Summer available in bookstore and T-Zero Magazine
On the Cusp of Sunday is an older poem but felt appropriate for both the day and prompt.