Were I to wear cowgirl boots on New Year’s Eve’
Would they walk me to your shine?
Were you to spin 70’s tunes on your record player
Would your dancin’ feet meet mine?
What did you wish for on your birthday without me
A shared path for us to find?
What I begged of the Ghost of Christmas Past
A machine to turn back time….
Fault me — I henceforth forego jitterbugging feet
Assert some bias in my blood which rejects dancehall beat
As time tiktoks, I cling instead to swaying with the strings
Tango, Pan-Hellenic sway, and all such passion brings
Step danced exclamations void of pop-cultural fray
Barefoot, solo, or with friends — come…blur night into day
Ahh, the girl from that January beach
￼Walking past those who shroud themselves in grey
Unchoosing to see
How each simple step they ought take
Means a chance to dance
But in my mirror I see her, whether January or June
I see me, swaying in syncopated rhythm
Embracing time these past months
Finally never alone
Original Thought Credit: “Garota de Ipanema;” Vinicius de Moraes, lyricist
I know this night
Allow me to define
Temperature just right
Songbirds dancing in the dusk
A perfect ambiance
I know this night well, I say!
Yet still unready to admit
The aloneness of it
The how I see clearly
The what that she has that I should have
Trepidation as stars begin their show
Is all the what that I have
My big, demure eyes
My young, smooth skin
I’d trade her for her treasure
Then maybe in the mirror see
Somebody you love