Missing Scenes

[Delta40]

You move like
A Winter's Tale,
against the blizzard,
up the steps.
Forget the next scene
when I come undone,
cry for more,
hold you down.
Time is a Music Hall dancer
and we clap our hands
along for the ride,
skipping past acts which matter
I do like to be beside the seaside
Now I'm alone,
an empty wine glass
spill'd across summer's cusp.

[PrinceMyshkin]

It unfolds as if you had all the time in the world to set the scene, but the last three lines - wonderful though they are - come at us like a sudden storm, especially after the line from that rollicking golden oldie, which had a lackadaisical pace as I recall.

[Delta40]

Yes it does but it goes to the heart of the theme of the poem - missing scenes.