Watching her video on YouTube, I
see her body sway and bounce at the mike,
easy response to guitar's rhythm--shy
yet sure singer's rocking the ride. It strikes
my heart. I recall years ago when we
dove into love--that whirling pool of fear,
laughter, long talks, intimate touches--free
to take chances, yet cautious as lost deer
in a dark wood. Her radio echoed
an old standard, Sinatra maybe. Bright
as a deejay, I chirped, "Hey, let's dance!" Slow
as syrup, she murmured, "I don't dance." Fright
froze her. I held her close. We barely moved.
Since then, she's gone a long way. I have, too.
Roger Armbrust
September 22, 2007
