Finding Old Words

I don't know the real author of this pantoum, but I remembered it back from when I was an active member on poetrycritical.net, a kind of informal internet poetry workshop. It was actually a really good resource if any of you are looking for that kind of thing. Anyway, the subject matter (Gypsies) is extremely interesting to me. The name of the user who posted it was "Anake".

Finding Old Words

I have a predilection for finding
four leaf clovers and old souls-
ghosts of a simpler world, winding
through catwalk concrete wholes.
Four leaf clovers and old souls
sing crowling carnival chords
through catwalk concrete wholes,
beyond gypsy painted boards.
"Sing crowling carnival chords
with us," the dancers beckon.
And beyond gypsy painted boards
they disappear in dervish seconds.
"...with us." The dancers' beckons
echo on canvas flapping in the air
then disappear in dervish seconds.
In their old world I'd have despaired.
Echoes on canvas flapping in the air,
they're ghosts of a simpler world, winding.
In that old world I'd have despaired.
But I have a predilection for finding.