The Dancing City

Today's guest blogger composed this poem driving home from a night in downtown Austin. 

The Dancing City
At night the owl hoots,
then tucks in his head,
The deer find a spot for the night.
But the true magic is in the cites,
which at night come alive.
The buildings they sway,
their lights beating in time to music
only they can hear.
The buildings touch the sky,
move the clouds,
yet still grow.
The metal groans
the earth thuds
and still they move
swaying forever
no reason to stop
the night is forever theirs
as it should be.

T. A.