72: Balconies

We saw them up there
on those platforms isolated
from the rest of us standing
down there and below
and we heard those tunes
once softly played on stereos
but it was in front of us now,
loud and blaring, encapsulating all.
Days and nights once useless to me, were melded into one.
and who cared about the outside -- the violin's yelling,
the trumpet's blasting,
those cymbals crashing...
Let's dance and dance
and we'll watch them above,
flying up into minds, stored forever.