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.
Victoria Hendricks
October 1, 2o10
I can relate to it as I got back to yaga after several years..
ReplyDeleteHere is my Haibun in 55 words!
Victoria, how wonderful that you had this opportunity to re-experience something you enjoyed so much! I just loved the ending:
ReplyDelete"I do not have
my old moves but age can't steal the joy
of sweating in a room swaying with song."
Go you! I felt every move with you.
ReplyDeleteI love these two lines:
feet which have not forgotten the music
age can't steal the joy/of sweating in a room swaying with song.
I am sure none of have the ballet moves we used to have... except for the arms, LOL. What a joy, though, to take a class with your granddaughter! I took from Madame Karpova, a famous Russian dancer who fled the country.
ReplyDeleteI love the feel of this piece - the shift of time.
ReplyDeleteYou must have been keeping yourself flexible, or we'd have been hearing another story. There are some things that are "like riding a bicycle". In her 70s my mother in law went back to the organ after three decades.
ReplyDeleteThanks for all the encouraging comments regarding both the poem and the dance class. It really was a joy, though I felt a bit foolish trying to keep all my body parts in proper places and times. I took three classes that afternoon and the Broadway jazz classes were hard HARD because of the precision of movement and learning required at great speed. THe class that was most fun and least freaky was Zumba, en exercise and dance class to international rhythms which is apparently available all over. It had a smile on my face even though I made plenty of mistakes there too. I will be going back to Zumba.
ReplyDeleteWhat a great opportunity. I love the way you bring the reader right into the lesson. Wonderful poem--so alive.
ReplyDeleteI applaud your bravery! Lovely story...
ReplyDeleteI can't watch tap without my feet automatically practicing the steps-- alas my knees won't let me dance again :-(
ReplyDeleteBeautiful, really beautiful poem - it took me back to my dancing days too... thank you.
ReplyDeleteWonderful. My husband and I took dancing lessons about that age. We cha-cha'd for 2 hours straight, dropped out and both had knee surgery within the year. Sometimes body just doesn't keep up with spirit.
ReplyDeleteVictoria, too.
my 160:
http://liv2write2day.wordpress.com/2010/10/03/sunday-160-sweet-ps/
lovely memories.
ReplyDeletewell done.
Yhanks for the comments about both poem and dancing. I feel real gratitude for the cooperation of my body up to this point and want to stop taking that for granted.
ReplyDelete