DANCE

I see you enter the room in flowing skirts
A vision of beauty in a sea of stuffed shirts
I try to rise but something stops me
I am overwhelmed by the forces of gravity

A little grin crosses my face;
my mind sees a different time and place
For twenty miles in the Georgia sun
with a ruck I lead them finishing in a run

In the Panamanian jungle's heat
I made if from Gulf to Ocean on my feet
Korean sub-zero winters night,
three hours march with no frostbite

Walking should be natural for me
A veteran of the infantry
Why do I have trouble with this prance
across the room to ask you to dance?

It cannot be this hard for me;
one who has been on battlefields three
The hard wood floor is more stable than sand
As I muster the strength to stand

I complete the short walk
My throat loses the ability to talk
I decide I must take a chance
"M'lady, would you like to dance?"

©Copyright January 1, 2002 by Mark I. Kirkmeyer