Dancing beneath a blood moon.

2024

Swaying in spirit.

Sound reverberated from all around.

The chorus from a battered wine car.

Plastic wrap for windows let the song come clear through the speakers.

Two young women sang and rocked in their seats.

It had been since she could remember her last hot meal and nights’ rest.

“Yeah”

The ladies in the car amplified the moment,

She let her body be free as her spirit.

A measure at a time.

“Yeah”

“Yeah.”

The impromptu hype crew emphasized at every beat.

She was no longer struggling

Not asking for favors in front of a bullet pocked gas station.

Joy was her movement. Divine was life in the moment.

“Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.”

The song came to a close.

An ad came on for credit repair.

The dancing stopped and the cars kept going.