The boy rushes towards the streets,
Sprinting, leaping, half-stepping
Towards the midnight finale lights ahead.
He is breathless, chasing a wind that
Has roped his neck and is daring him to move
Faster. But he is careful; afraid that he
Might slip on the road that leads him to
The light. But when he reaches it, he forgets;
Stunned by the checkerboard floors stained,
Soaked with champagne and starlight.
The swan and peacock laced patrons rising
With the smoke of their cigars, he
Races forth to join them, and forgets
Not to slip on the tile.