Dancing at the Y.W.C.A.

synanpses 2
By Barbara Eknoian

Bayonne, NJ

Recently married, we venture
with a small group of friends
to learn Ballroom.
As we enter the hallway
the lively music lures me.
My heart beats a bit faster
anticipating the dance.
Then our lessons begin.
Men line up across the floor,
mimic the male teacher’s steps.
Ladies stand on the other side,
follow the female instructor.
We get together with partners
mouthing to each other one, two,
one, two, three to Cha Cha,
and one, two, three
one, two, three to Waltz.

Winners of the Harvest Moon Ball,
our teachers perform for us.
Lino, graceful and lean, instructs us
in his sexy Italian accent.
I’m in awe, imagine dancing with him:
We Quick Step across the floor,
then glide like ice dancers
to a Viennese Waltz.
Even in my mind, there’s trouble
following his lead,
to the Tango’s staccato beat.
I want to wrap my leg around his knee.
It’s hard to keep the Samba’s tempo.
swaying our hips, taking swift steps.
For the final dance,
Spanish music inspires us
to march out for the Paso Doble,
hear the roar of the crowd
awaiting the bull.

in swirling arcs;
he thrusts his sword.

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