A Spectator of Life and Freedom
He,
Only
Only three feet something
Stamps his feet
Sumo style
The girls
Meanwhile
Hold hands and
Skip their best skips
Round and
Round and
Round
At his leisure
Sans inhibition
And without preference
He chooses one
Taking her by the hand
And
They dance
Full of joy
Joy so pure
The mountain air
And
Yield
For all their coolness
And color
They cannot extract the
Same smiles
From us—the circle of adults
Standing in still participation
In the celebration
Like statues when viewed
Next to
Kids
We see the girls
Twirl
Intrigued
That they
Are mesmerized
By centrifugal force
Pulling pastel dresses
To the extreme
Breaks voluntarily
Pulling a treat
From his left pocket
Though his M&M may fall
He will still eat
Convict him not
Control not
His eating
Nor his dancing
They don’t mind Miles Davis
But they
Hope the next one is fast...
As they frolic with uncontrolled laughter...
We chuckle
We laugh courteously
At life in motion
As if it were a one-liner
And not the panacea
We all long for
Some of us laugh as the senile do
We know something is cute
We know something is perfect
In these
Small footed moves
But memory fails
And we complicate the recollection
Of a time
When we
Danced carelessly
Amid pointing grown-ups
Deep inside
Some of our chests heave
With sobs instead of chuckles
Lamenting lost opportunities
To dance
They did not know it was their last dance
When he pulled her close
Kissing her nose
Or was it her lips?
I don't know
I stood behind her
A spectator
Of life and freedom