I Have Danced All My Life

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I Have Danced All My Life

 

If you peaked through

my windows tonight,

you found me tapping

on my laptop keys

in a tan recliner by the fire

with a knitted white blanket

across my feet.

You saw my husband sitting

a few feet away from me,

flipping through Hemmings

Motor News, adjusting

his bronze-framed glasses.

If you listened closely enough,

you heard the jittery fire pop,

sizzle, and crackle within

its brick walls.

Then, you heard me say,

“Fires do not dance,”

as I turned

away from the flame.

 

Shawn R. Jones (2013)

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