It's all in the dance

You dance across the back porch

feet quick to avoid the

broken place

barely a swoosh heard

from the soles of your

dance shoes,

arms flung to the air

in worship of the summer day

soaking the afternoon

with yellowness.

Hair flies as the twirl

brings you close to the edge

caught in time and danced

back to the centre.

Laughter rings

peeling the bell of release

of love.

Face flushed,

eyes bright with mystery

you finally sit beside me

on the built-for-two swing,

breath coming quickly

as you turn to me,

forehead damp

and creaseless,

“It’s all in the dance,”

you whisper in my ear,

as if I should understand

so quickly what you have known

for eternity

for all time.

Reaching under the swing

you lift a box

to me,

no wrap, no ribbon,

“for you,

yellow dancing shoes.”