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!
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.