We stumble through darkness

torches raking emerald hedges

three women off to salsa class.

 

Never been before.

Laughing and shivering

in the January night.

 

The church hall is warm and bright

the teacher young.

He tries to show us how to dance the salsa.

 

We stand in line.

It looks so easy

but I can’t do it!

I add steps that aren’t there

I’m on my right foot when it should be my left

I’m going backwards, should be off in front

 

and then . . .

we take a partner.

 

A man is holding my hand.

His palm supports my shoulder

guiding me

but I am a wayward pupil!

And I want to cry

right there, in the middle

of the salsa class

where everyone is laughing, giggling

as they should be.

But that isn’t me.

I make my excuse and I leave.

 

Back in my clumpy walking boots

walking home beneath a blueblack January sky

my old friend Orion is looking down.

“You should have stayed at home!”

he seems to say

 

and I agree.

In this cold dark empty universe

he is my one and only dancing partner

and the wisest man for me.