POETRY/HAIBUN
Ballroom Dance Dreams
Haibun writing prompt day 31: Dance
I see the small kids on Tik Tok dancing in the ballroom like live adults. Dancers not in love, but in love with the dance. They kick their hind legs like new baby broncos, broken in by experienced riders who know the ride and how to ride it. They are dancers who excel in the game, and know so young how to dance in it. They glide and shimmy like 8-year-olds living with 38-year-old bodies. 38 years of wear and tear. Just a little too young to care. Waiting to be Fred Astaire? Or Ginger Rogers? Movements more like little Micheal Jackson’s and Beyoncés in the ballrooms of today. Their arms illuminate like stars in the pale moonlight. Their legs glisten, but never outshined by the smiles they radiate. They dance to the melody of their harmonious heartbeats. They learn to win while never willing to learn. They know the steps. The struggles. The solidarity. The silence. And the rejection. Dancers who have mastered the art of the dance, like two artist brushes marking their canvas. No amateurs here. The two champions of dance. Their tears flow down on faces where the rivers of shattered dreams flow. Maybe next time.
The dance is over
like butteries in the wind
didn’t win again
