Gypsies

Fire burns  in their eyes and they whirl like dervishes. Dancing for change, love, and piece of mind. Their costumes are garish and they exude a zest for life that only gypsies can exude. I look at their Medusa like hair and get lost in the pyre that is their passion for living. Oh they taunt me in this city square to the eerie laughs of Karl Marx and Victor Hugo.