A Friday Night in Eugene

Surely a moment of change is some focus of energy;
perhaps a simple glance toward a movement of parts.
Differences may be subtle or sudden without cause;
chains of differences dance beyond our dancing reach.

Our world contains a multitude of starts and pauses.
I suspect we can disregard single, simple focuses of energy.
Chains of differences are troves or more often trials.
Even drunks who fall down a lot love a special someone.

The world in whole is somewhat different from the dance floor.
we dance and expect to finish with some flourish of a prance
and go home for a hug and a brandy, a nap before seeking more
and maybe savor with friends our favorite sticky toffee pudding.

I barely know the courtesies beyond the dance floor;
I do not cotton toward the whelm of endless universes.
But, I have possibilities: I may stroll the streets of Eugene,
staring starward into the skies, always wearing at least a mask.