St Anne's Reel
We danced together, you and I, when the night was young. Jigs followed reels, and the whole hall moved to our music.
Strangers and old friends, it made no difference, then. We watched children and old men alike as they paused on the threshold, uncertain. We watched them take those first stumbling steps, faces creasing into smiles, and then they were whirled away into the dance.
Feet stamped in time, hands clapped, and skirts spun open as bright and fleeting as flowers carried on the wind. Together, we urged them on, faster and faster, until you were a blur across my strings.
The years have moved on though, and that floor is empty now. You are gone I know not where, and I lie alone in the dark, the sheen of my varnish turned dull with age. Yet some things can never fade.
When the winter wind blows in from the sea, it still carries the memory of songs and laughter. From some other friendly shore, or from the ghosts of ships long gone, the music lives on; and footsteps passing by m