Monday, January 27, 2014

Dancers and Doorways

The Mischief Cafe at TweetSpeakPoetry challenged poets to craft a poem that includes both a dancer and a door. Although I'm not the same caliber of poet as my best friend, Megan Willome, I will claim the title of poet (or at least poet-in-training) today!

Tapping

My brand new patent leather shoes beckon me
to tap, tap, tap in our kitchen doorway
as I belt out
Frosty the Snowman.
Momma peers around the corner and smiles at me and fastens her necklace.
I pause, self-conscious that she heard me singing
all the way in her bedroom.

Forty years later,
I can't remember if I ever finished the song.

3 comments:

nance.mdr said...

i'm not a tap dancer
but reading this makes me want to get some tap shoes

Megan Willome said...

I love the tapping of the feet and how tapping can also mean the tapping on a door. I can see--and hear--everything.

Sandra Heska Kingn said...

What Megan said. And I love that Momma smiled.