The Masquerade

March 5, 2012
By , Pittsburgh, PA
She stared out her window
A lattice of Jack Frost’s breath
Like church stained glass
Each crystal a unique story

Her cheeks were rosy, the color of early sunset
She could feel a chill run down her spine to her fingertips
Like gelid water trickling down her back
And she began to watch the masquerade

Guests sailed through the frigid air
Flitting across tree branches and rose bushes
As if they were dancing Swan Lake
Their crystals moving in one fluid movement

Their dresses twinkled in the moon’s soft glow
Like tiaras adorning Diana’s head
Gossamer lace patterns in Bentley’s pictures
And Kate’s alluring dress

The orchestra began to play
A flute from the wind
A harp from the rippling river
And violins of the crickets

The guests waltzed across frost bitten grass
Slow at first
As if if they were drifting through water
Like a shell being pushed and pulled by the current

The night wore on, and the dance became more furious
The wind howled and the guests sprung through the air
Their dresses radiating as they whisked through the night
Until the music stopped

As the sun rose from the horizon
The guests began to settle
Their exquisite dresses melting into a pile
That children would jump into the next day

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