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Writer's pictureMeg Vlaun

"Dance With Me," said Life


13 September 2021


“Dance With Me,” said Life


We pirouette along the edge

and lightly two-step to the ledge.

Near this chasm of disaster

spin me fast and still yet faster

Until my head begins to swim,

befuddled, pliant to your whim.


What will it be, our dance, today –

a ballroom waltz or haute ballet?

Scottish sword dance, strict and rigid

timid toes trembling over blades?

Perhaps flamenco, hot, humid;

scorching slick thighs touch – Baile!

Or is it tango – rabid tease –

long thorny rose to scratch my face?

Perchance it is swing; intrepid

you fling me between legs with grace,

then overhead – oh, don’t release!


Day by day, nervous nausea plays

its tune upon my timid heart…

For why, oh why, can our dance not be

something soft, sweet-tempered, tame:


I beg,

“Why can’t we just sway,

Relish brilliant day,

Sing the sun our praise,

‘Til it fades away…

And with calm, embrace the night?”


“Because, my child, I am life,”

you say,

“To rob you of your strife,

robs also what is gay.

Until the music breaks,

when we bow and go our way,

To deeply feel is right!”

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