Longing for Dance,1-5

(the first five of a sequence of 20 10-line poems on this theme)

1.

I wanted to be Anna Pavlova. I read her life, 

written for girls like me. My mother took me 

to ballet class with all the other little girls 

who dreamed. Hopeful rows of us. I was 

the one who couldn’t even move her feet 

into ‘first position.’ I wasn’t lithe, or 

coordinated. It didn’t make sense to me. 

My body wanted to go its own way. Perhaps 

it was just as well. In the book, I missed 

or ignored the bit about her bleeding toes. 

2.

My first husband, Don, was a champion

ballroom dancer: shelves of cups and medals!

When he danced with me, it looked as if I could.

I understood when he, just once or twice

every night, partnered someone good.

My second husband, Bill, was like me – hopeless 

on the floor. We jumped around with gusto, 

getting it wrong and so what? My third, Andrew, 

loved to dance. I believe he did it well. But, 

unable to share with equal finesse, we just didn’t.

3.

I want it to be flight, I want it to be

soaring, effortless, high into the 

air above me, weightless and free.

I want it to happen despite me, despite

my weight, my clumsiness, my body.

If that can’t be, then how about

in the arms of someone who loves me,

whirling to music, in a waltz, like 

the stars of ‘The Merry Widow’

and sweet notes of song soaring too?

4.

They say it’s the next best thing

to fornication. That it imitates that

or acts as precursor. But I say,

that’s wrong. I move well in bed,

need no help deciding what to do 

next, or where to put anything. It’s

only on the dance floor I get stuck

trying to figure out the moves,

the sequence – let alone the ease

and the flow. (What if I take the lead?)

5.

Birds dance, I’ve seen them.

On my lawn, new magpies

step lively, with a lilt.

Lorikeets attacking the trees

do so with happy jiggling. 

And that time when I lived where I 

watched eagles, I saw them dance 

on long currents of air: swooping,

swirling, gliding. And tiny finches 

dance on their toes, skip and hop.

Instructions, from Arcana Poetry Press on Instagram:

  

Sharing with Poets and Storytellers United at FridayWritings #216: Just Dance. This is an exercise I came across, and happen to be engaged in at present – just when the P&SU prompt happens, serendipitously, to fit! We're only allowed 369 words for sharing with P&SU, hence I can't post the whole 20 pieces all at once – which is just as well, as I haven't written them all yet. I don't have enough leisure time to do 20 in one day! (Not even 'intensively.') Some of these have now had some tiny edits. 

Later: See also Poems 6-10, Poems 11-15, Poems 16-20.

The whole sequence is now available as a free ebook. To access it (and others) first go here.