No dancing anymore sincethe fifth-grade play where the girls wore hoop skirtsand the teacher told us to dance one at a timeI waltzed and whirled and flitted and flurried across that stagemy skirt flaring, my underpants showing,grinning at the great fun of it alland the teacher laughednot a slight smirk, but a full out guffawnose honking, shoulders shakingas I slunk to the back of the line
I should say no more dancing on the outsidesince shuffling shame-faced off the stageclassmates snickeringBut sister of spring’s first daffodilsscattering gold on green fieldsLady of loons’ call at dusk, glidingacross glassy lakesBrother of deer, white tails dartingthrough the underbrushI dance on the inside all the timemy hoop skirt flashing
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