TheBanyanTree: DANCING ON HIS SHOES
Sharon Mack
SMACK at berkshirecc.edu
Tue Feb 24 13:04:57 PST 2004
Written to the prompt 1/31/04 "....the biggest influence on your
life..."
(for another workshop)
DANCING ON HIS SHOES
By Sharon A. Mack
When Sarah was a little girl she used to dance atop her father's
feet, scuffing his shoes, but he never seemed to mind, he just smiled
and danced on carrying her in his arms and moving like a soft summer
breeze to the swaying music. She longed to learn the steps...
....when Sarah turned four, she could dance the steps on her own. She
moved with her father so well that the people requested that they dance
for them. They smiled at the small girl and the young soldier as they
swirled across the floor, his arms carrying her to the rhythm. Sarah
squinted her eyes and threw her head back as they whirled first to the
left and then to the right so she could look at the colors that seemed
to swirl about them coming from the many gowns the women wore. The
colors of the gowns mixed with the dark suits of the men and gave her a
sense of the surreal. The people smiled and clapped their hands when
they were done and asked for more....
....when Sarah was eight she danced the polka and the two-step with her
father. She loved the way he leaned down toward her face and moved her
through the bouncy steps. He spun her and turned her and they walked
the promenade....all at her level....
....but when Sarah grew up, she no longer danced with her father. She
heard different tunes and the lovers came and the lovers went and all
took her out to the dance floor and all danced in front of her and
beside her and then moved behind her. She never danced on their shoes,
nor did they hold her hand or in their arms. They blended together in
the mists and then they disappeared. No one clapped, no one asked for
more, no one spun her and no one turned her and no one walked the
promenade with her.....
....the years grew long and the music was silenced....
and now....
Sarah dances alone to no tune at all....
.....and the angels weep at the loss.
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