Beat. Blending. Bolero. Breakaway.
Before bed, my daughter and I
do a word search. The theme:
“Social Dancing.” At the same time
we notice how closely related
Dancing is to Distancing.
The hidden words all snuggle
in their thirteen by thirteen square.
Brush. Cha-cha. Foxtrot. Polka.
They cross each other, touch each other,
overlap, congregate, connect.
Rumba. Samba. Slow Dance. Spin.
How I miss doing what these letters
are doing—getting lost in a crowd,
then emerging less as a self and
more as a spiral turn, upside down
and backwards, or heck,
showing up as a straightforward sway.
Oh I miss that glorious not knowing
where I begin and end, surrounded
by others as we swing, swivel, tango, waltz.
