Against the drapes, what shadows danced,
rich silhouettes of dresses, suits,
encircling, arms high and low,
as music spilled from window sills
and filled our chilled ears with a waltz
performed behind the great facade
where bracing columns framed the scene
and ivy lent a touch of green
while we rubbed hands, stamped frozen feet,
imagining such feasts within,
the clashing glasses, silverware,
the candlelight and chandeliers,
the roaring fires, roasts, and toasts,
the latest gossip and the boasts
of those who were invited there,
the ones with jewels and perfect hair,
and bright white teeth, and perfumes, furs,
and chauffeurs coaching limousines:
the ones observed inside that rite,
not us, outside, this winter night.