Hanging On

I hang on
when I really need to uncurl my fingers
and let my self fall
like a red scarf in the desert wind
floating fearlessly against the sandstone canyon walls

I hang on the hook like an old pink coat
with a frayed neckline
where you put me
when you have something better to wear

I sway slightly when you walk by
hoping you might choose me this time
I lean against the wall
brushing my threadbare hemline
against the tops of your boots

Just noticing the rough leather
against the softness of cashmere
and remembering the smell
of your skin on my pillow

One day you will take me off the hook
and wear me as if it was our first dance
and for the moment I forget
that you will hang me up again

It's just the perfect dance
round and round like a red scarf
floating upon the trustworthy wind
toward the sun and the moon

Until you decide it is time to stop
and I dance on alone
upon those waves of desert wind
against the sandstone canyon walls