Morning Dance
It begins with a drumbeat, pounding and insistent Students shuffling to morning classes and high-heeled women click-clacking into sterile offices break into a foxtrot Heaven sends bright blissful notes earthward (somewhere, a glint of sunshine strikes the bell of a brightly polished horn sending dancing ripples of light all up and down 23rd Street) A girl in purple sweatpants grabs a red-faced man in business suit & institutional tie- they twirl together, moving in the rhythms of charleston, lindy hop, mashed potato, cabbage patch; limbs fly through cool morning air Chunky blocks of rhythm pour from some celestial guitar; coats and hats drop to the ground as rush-hour passersby succumb to the relentless beat A jittery bass line rushes the crowd along The drumbeat accelerates to a crescendo; dancers' hurried steps pulverize the pavement And then the rhythm falters, fades; the heavenly tune is lost in a whispering breeze and traffic's roar The commuters resume their frantic workday pace; the morning dance is forgotten. Written March 27th, 2002 © on Mar 27 2002 05:23 AM PST 10 • 0
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"It begins..."