Just Dance

You believed in such levity.
To be airy, light, and then
for sorrow, falling absently.
Emoting, that’s it, that’s
the magic of dance.

You’d never be one,
the one to do the squat,
or the high falutin’ kickin’,
nothing of the sort.
But break out of everyday reserve
you could, your body loose then
tight, humming excitedly.


Perhaps Robert Brewer watched someone dance. That’s why he asked for a dance poem. Dancing is one of the best things in the world. It’s best to do it while you still can. Because sadly, there’ll come a day when you no longer can. With each year your body rusts a little or a lot. Dancing is your body in lithe movement. There’re all types of dance too. So dance the form that your body likes. For instance I’m not much into hip hop. Too funky. I rather like lyrical dance. Surprisingly I find belly dancing the hardest to master, alternating between feeling entranced and repelled, and maybe both at the same time. I’ll stop rambling now.


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