Return to Atlantic City
Aura Thundera
deonii@yahoo.com

***

In the darkness of endless winter,
All the shore towns lay sleeping.
Pass beneath darkened windows
And over a quiet drawbridge
Summer's sun is far away
And so too are its crowds
All that remains is the private face
Of the island towns.
The beaches are quiet
Piled high with shells
Cast up by winter tides
The boardwalk is empty
Save for sounds of preparation
For those summer days
And here and there a lonely walker
On a mission of their own.
Some of the people are omnipresent;
The gamblers who come for casinoes
Regardless of the season.
And others are resident, who love the sea
Regardless of the season.
A traveler or two, come with purpose
Holed up in an old motel.
What they wait for lies ahead,
On the next island above.
They dream of a song of the summer
That passed so many years ago
And transformed the beaches,
Songs of time gone by,
Performed by an idol of love.
The sun sinks into the bay
As they prepare for him.
For he is the reason they came
To the towns on the sea
When the cold wind blows in
Fierce off the foamy waves.
They dine eagerly, but sparingly,
The excitement grows too much
For them to think of eating.
As the time comes they arrrive
Eager for him to come
And make their hearts take flight
Anticipation builds to a fever pitch
A pregnant quiet builds there
In the sheltered showroom
As they save their voices
For an earthshaking scream
To greet their singing idol.
The lights go dim, the silence grows
Time seems to pause around them
And the room becomes a microcosm
Expanding to encompass their world
Caught out of time in memory
Though a univers grows stormy
Beyond the walls; they do not care.
The curtain parts, the stage lights on
And the room erupts;
A greeting like human thunder,
Born of heartfelt devotion.
He walks the stage before the multitude
Convincing each that he lives for her
And for her alone.
In the end he vanishes again
And they dissipate back into the night.
From the shore they disperse
Taking their joy to the everyday world.


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