A Moment of Freedom

It is a museum piece, or
at least that is the theory, old news,
old scars, old bonds that force an old dance.

Here, where you sit in a diner far away
from home, Prince is on the stereo
and rednecks are dancing like it is 1989

and they are in Club 54. You admire
their lack of inhibition. Wondering if
you were ever that free. Perhaps,

but only with the right person at the right time,
brief stolen moments of such safety
it was almost impossible not to be in love.

About this poem

About a moment here at a McDonalds in Chester, Illinois. About inhibitions, and the people and situations that release them. About age, or at least mine. About the power of true love. Poetry is never about one thing.

The picture was taken at Mass MoCA, The Mass Museum of Contemporary Art. Unfortunately I messed up and did not take a picture of the card telling me who did it, and the exhibit is gone, so I could not give credit where it is due. But the mix of collar and candles felt ritualistic, and spawned this poem.

Tom