Welcome to Four Lines! I have a goal I would like to write at least four lines of poetry or a haiku every day for the rest of my life. I'm excited about this challenge! Also, along with my daily poem, I will be reading at least four lines of another author's poetry. I'll try to include that here also. So I'm thinking - how difficult can it be to read and then write one poem a day? We will see! - Claudia

All poems on this blog, unless noted, are written by Claudia Callaghan.
© 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016 Claudia Callaghan
Used only with permission. Please feel free to join Four Lines and request permission.

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Dancing across the wooden floor,
in the mirror we see ourselves
and colorful night lights of Minneapolis
through floor-to-ceiling windows.
"One, two, three, four," the teacher says,
"five, six, seven." Eight is silent.  
Understood.  
He is perfect, our teacher,
an extension of music, an instrument,
a passionate soloist. I wonder if his feet ever knotted,
as we stumble and catch up, practicing stepping rhythm out.
Music is a river.
This, our first class, carries us away.
"I love being with you," you whisper in my ear.
Steps and sequence repeated,
we face each other.  
I love facing you.
I'd dance forever with you - 
through this snowy night,
from venue to venue, crossing town,
state, nation, ocean, from country to country,
around the world, through fire, flood
and wild flower meadows.
You lean in. I feel, I hear your breath.  
You kiss my cheek
just before the music starts again.

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