High-School Dancers, 1968



They moved together as one

Every step understated and true

At night when the music came on

There was no end to what they could do.


In that day there were none who gave lessons

In that time there were none who could pay

Their art was pure gift; they had no cause to boast

They danced and gave all things away.


He was small and not strong or handsome

She was shy and she smoked cigarettes

But they turned and they twirled like two masters

With a grace none of us would forget.


Copyright 2016

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