"The Singing Butler"...apparently

George and Katie are not the ones dancing. Katie doesn’t get to sweep her red dress across the sand and George doesn’t get to hold her on the edge of waves lit by the glowing horizon. Katie doesn’t get to take off her shoes and George must leave on his black hat. The wind makes fun of Katie’s apron and lifts it up for anyone to see. George keeps the umbrella held above the heads of people he wants to be. People he must’ve been like in one lifetime and now it’s their turn to be wealthy, beautiful, and catered on. To have your heads shielded my two umbrellas when rain hasn’t even begun to fall. George stand on the ready for a voice that says “I need you here,” “please do that,” “oh could you be a dear…” George isn’t singing and Katie isn’t dancing. The wind, waves, and shells rumbling across sand are singing and the couple whose blind past their horizon is spinning, gliding, waltzing along. Does this scene deserve a pity remark? Perhaps, someone will mistake this picture for something lovely and timeless? A picture where George is singing, Katie is dancing, and swaying until her skirt skips up? George and Katie are not the ones dancing.