Moving With You | Poetry
Moving With You
We could find ourselves dancing at a ball,
doing the waltz, our two bodies pressed
tight as we orbit the great dance hall.
The guests all dressed in their Friday night best,
the heavenly strings from the far-off wall
make this a grand outing of no contest.
We might be dancing in the country
filled with zest as the fiddle fills the air.
If you don’t mind that my moves are rusty,
me ignoring the tripping is only fair.
Contradancing always makes us feel bubbly
you can’t help but smile at the low-key flair.
Or maybe we’re both just dancing alone
in our backyard, under the light of stars.
Our music is the cricket’s endless drone
as we sway barefoot on this grass of ours.
For free, we can groove right outside our home
and twirl to the sounds of honking cars.
I’ve found that no matter the type of place,
no matter the decor that fills the space,
if I’m allowed to see your smiling face,
I will always feel a great sense of grace.