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Dancing AngelsDancing Angels


They held each other close,
shadows falling abruptly
from the dance floor.

A tinny version of
Nat Cole’s Stardust
echoed through tiny speakers

Their translucent forms
flirted with each other
as heals and wings made love.

A nearly endless line
of spectators
had formed below.

Slowly scaling
the polished
chrome cylinder

Squeezing and fluttering
to stay atop
their convex dome.

He raised her high
above his shoulders
as if she weighed nothing.

And they soared
countless nanometers
above the awestruck patrons.

Their waltz continued
late into the evening,
long past thinning crowds.

Until the mirrored glass ball
Ground to a halt
And the PA squeaked “Last call”

For those who remained
a time-worn question
had finally been answered.

How many angels
on the head of a pin?

No matter the crowd -
Always two.