I remember dancing 'til I flew
Sonnet
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A great deal of our personal inspiration can be preserved in how and what we choose to remember. Unlike a camera, the mind is not a recording device. Rather, we construct memories over and over again, re-inventing both personal and collective past in the present. That’s one reason why telling or retelling your own story is a way to take command of your future. And that’s why the attempt to erase or alter someone else’s story is almost always some kind of power grab.
I’ve recently been reclaiming parts of my dancer story, and its been a mostly a sweet but at times bittersweet internal journey.
This week’s poem is a conventional sonnet, except for a preference for slant rhymes and internal rhymes, after a sonnet by Gwendolyn Brooks. It was inspired by a beautiful event space here in Long Beach with a 100-year old dance floor. At least, I like to imagine it was once a dance floor and may be again. Those of you who are social dancers might enjoy some of the references.
I remember dancing ‘til I flew
I remember dancing ‘til I flew,
reckless under lamp-glow like a bat.
From strings of violins my two wings grew.
Of emptiness they carved a figure eight.
Here you drew my gaze across the hall.
We met as strangers on a bridge of air.
The lyrics wept in salt a wistful tale
to rinse the hearts that swept around the floor.
I graze the boards where ghosts now trail their lace,
the creak of oak a sweet if tender stretch.
I drink from lifted cups that join the fates
of dreamers looking past where time can reach.
A thousand whispered steps find counterpoint
then vanish when their grief is finally spent.
Oh wow!!!!!! This is breathtaking. I want to write music to this.
Beautiful!