SEASHELL NELL

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Small winter poem 3 | Once upon a waltz

Maybe it’s just me
But does anyone else
Relate specific songs to specific people?

Maybe it’s just because I dance
But when certain songs play
…on the web
…at wedding receptions
…over PA systems
I think about the pilgrims
Whose paths
Have crossed mine
Face/ places/ spaces of blurred memories overlapping.

Today I was in a wee shop
Waist deep in knick-knacks
When there, over the speakers,
a song.

I thought of him immediately.

This was his favorite song.

A slow ballad in 3/4 time.

He loved it, but, as we sometimes do
With the things
We treasure the most,
He would
Protect it/

Play it
Sparingly/

Never name it as
“Favorite.”

But I knew it was.

Maybe it still is.

I don’t know.

(It’s been years since I’ve danced with him).

But, in that shop,
Browsing for nothing,
I treasured it again.

I remembered how he loved to dance to it
…on dance floors
…in my living room
…anywhere with a hint of space
For him to fill
With the smooth, flowing gait
Of a waltz step–
Long lines the length of the floor.

I remember.

Maybe he still does, too.

Maybe, if he is in a store that begins to play
The familiar tune,
He pauses
.
.
.
Tilts an ear
.
.
.
Smiles
.
.
.
Remembers
.
.
.
Extends his hand
To his wife
And they dance–
Close movements, small,
Limited in the retail space–
Until the song ends.
And then they both bow.

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