i never had my dance card stolen.
i never had a dance card.
my dad drops me off at junior prom
in our high school cafeteria in a
culpeper county cow pasture.
the theme’s an enchanted evening.
my corsage is a lone orchid.
years earlier, dad teaches me
the philadephia swing.
nervous, i miss a beat and
step on his foot.
impatient and pained,
he proclaims i can’t dance.
i will not dance for years.
my new husband, as we wait for old friends,
puts his hand out to me and asks shyly,
“may i have this dance?”
and, he twirls and dips me into eternity.
my corsage is happiness.