The Big Book of Poems (That are totally unrelated.)

Slow Dance

  He walked up,
So did I.
We said hello,
Hands intertwined.

The music starts.
It's quiet, nervous.
It's a slow dance,
So it's not unheard of.

I am graceful,
So is he.
Sometimes he stumbles.
Same goes for me.

We start to twirl through life
And then
The dance moves closer.
It draws us in.

We are so close
We could be one.
But now the dance
Has come undone.

So far apart,
Fingers just graze.
I cannot see him
Through the haze.

The dance is done
But incomplete.
We're now alone
And obsolete.

Through the fog
We both stumble,
A little more graceful,
A little more humble.

We draw close again.
I hear him now.
Our fingers touch,
Our hearts pound loud.

We twirl together
As we did before.
We miss some steps
But get some more.

The dance grows faster,
Steps come quicker.
It has come and gone
In a flicker.

The dance is the slowest
It's ever been.
We rock to and fro,
My head on his.

He's gone first,
I'm all alone.
There's an empty spot
In my home.

I teeter totter
To the beat,
So much slower
For my old feet.

I slow to a stop
And grab the wall,
Which only slows
My inevitable fall.

The audience gasps.
They rush to me,
Grab my hand
To pull me to my feet.

But I am tired.
My dance is done.
Time to give up the floor
To a new someone.

They refuse,
But hesitate.
So full of sadness,
But of no hate.

My hand slips away.
I close my eyes.
As it goes dark,
I hear them cry,
Tears in their eyes,
As they mourn the loss of my
Slow Dance.