Dancing

                             
                                                            by  LUCILLE HAMILTON

I didn't know what to do with them, 

my legs -

they were the longest part of me

when I was in my teens.

Looking back, 

I thought of myself as

having the awkwardness of a camel getting up,

trying to unfold all that boney length

neatly and quickly

so no one would notice my ungainly movements.

I couldn't get away with it in dancing class.

No boy wanted to dance with me,

so I was always "stuck" with the short, fat boy,

equally unhappy being there and stuck with me.

Neither of us had any sense of rhythm,

and he would pump his - and consequently, my -

arm up and down 

with all the vigor of a windmill in a high wind.

A circle of wariness would rapidly form around us.

But I must say, he always had salted peanuts in his pocket,

so we always ate well, and I learned a lot about goobers

so there would be something of interest to talk about.

I underestimated Sammy.  He was a standby, Something

I had yet to value.  He was a good sport, what with my stepping

on his always polished shoes.  I came to really like him, as time

went by and now I wonder if he, like me, has come to terms

with that kind of dancing, 

being more in favor these days of spontaneously lighting out 

across the dance floor,

as the mood sees fit.

2014