One Last Dance

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My life has been  

a series of dances:

The birth canal twist

The burp the baby tango

The nanny-propelled carriage kick

The hurry, flurry knee crawl

The first-step wobble

The playground promenade

The ocean wave hokey pokey

The snow day prance

The green mile walk 

on the first day of school

The Cinco de Mayo Hat Dance

The Junior High Friday night-grinding

The high school backseat ballet

The college dorm seductions

The one-knee proposal

The very first gambol as Mr. And Mrs. 

Which led to 

The bending over backward

The half-hearted apology

The turning away at night

which led to

the last waltz of divorce

which led to

the post-marriage rumble

and the choreography of the kids

who never wanted the music to end

Which led to

new partners

and having to re-learn old moves

which led 

once again 

to the first-step wobble

which in time

became as refined 

as those recurring dreams

where everyone you’ve loved and lost

suddenly appear

on the floor of your haunted ballroom

dressed like swells

and offer you a drowsy hand

for one last dance.


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