The prompt at Big Tent Poetry is to do something I haven't done in a while - an adventure - and let it stir a poem. So here here I am in
Dance Class at 59
Folded up my leotard when
I found myself pregnant the
first time, thirty four years ago.
Let go of stretch, reach, kick.
turn, spot, keep your unison,
lift, leap, rise, fall into the beat.
So I was scared, excited when
my granddaughter's dance school
offered a free afternoon of classes.
I sat on the floor, bare foot in floppy
pants and tank top, flexed and pointed
feet which have not forgotten the music .
Directions tumbled fast into jumbled
brain, left kick up down turn right, head
down, hand on hat, kick, spin, three steps
back, cross, arabesque. Confused, half
a step behind, backwards, I do not have
my old moves but age can't steal the joy
of sweating in a room swaying with song.
October 1, 2o10