One-Way Waltz

A one-way waltz is all we've got, and-a
One-way waltz is not love enough to live;
For friendship leads and friendship follows,
But always whatevers with our fellows.
A memory marks its time upon a shelf,
A dwindled nothing, a stationary elf,
Frosted with dust, in dust diminished,
Until the affection that placed it there is finished.
If hand reach out to hand in timely dance,
In all the whirled hazard of our circumstance,
And palm meets no palm but passes touchless,
Such hand's unfit but to carry torches.
Then let torches burn what they cannot find,
And find parade-rest for the whirring mind.