! ! Dancing with Dylan
He is propped on all fours
when I arrive -
almond eyes grave,
face strangely serious.
I smile and say hello.
He doesn't respond at first
but continues to stare -
like a deer
I kneel before him
(not too close)
and show him my new red nails.
He moves a little closer
I pick him up
and press his warm, sunny body
He doesn't resist
and for several minutes
not a sound passes between us.
Later at the tavern
he laughs, hiding his lips.
I have abandoned my new pink glasses.
He has my chin in his mouth.
I carry him to the dance floor
His laughter is infectious.
We glide across the parquetry,
Dean Martin spins on the turntable.
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Comments about this poem (! ! Dancing with Dylan by Alison Cassidy )
- My Son Ali, kassem oude
- Hit Music, Michael McParland
- Mind, Soul and Spirit, DEEPAK KUMAR PATTANAYAK
- Drivers lessons, Harold R Hunt Sr
- I love you, Harold R Hunt Sr
- love, Harold R Hunt Sr
- Under the stairs., Harold R Hunt Sr
- On my shoulder, Harold R Hunt Sr
- Out of the mouth of babies., Harold R Hunt Sr
- Chand Khoya He Badlo Mein, Hwa Khamoshi .., Yashvardhan Goel
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