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DANCING

 

The girl across the street was learning ballet.
I wanted to, though I couldn’t see.
At the age of eleven,
with a private teacher young and energetic,
I learned to plie, sashay.

With a cassette tape she made
that contained music and her instructions,
I jumped, kicked, skipped across our Arizona kitchen floor.

We moved to Wyoming a year later.
With a different teacher, old and crabby,
I tried a class with other girls,
couldn't tell what they were doing,
dropped out, moved on.

***

This poem was recently published in The Pangolin Review