A cabaceo first, then followed a dance;
She said: I thank you. The cortina short.
How dreamy! Thought I. …I made my plans
to ask again. Months flew. And I sort
of liked her, too! (not always so). A tanda
is so brief. And not a chat – no way to find
her soul for real; if only this was a way you could!
The dancer knows, does not need the remind;
that we play with strut and twirl and walk;
boys and girls making merry, and as we should.
But there are times how we walk is a way to share.
In the world of dance, all is not as it seems.
Find fault if you must, but I hope to find her there;
beneath the streetlight, with music and dreams.
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*one of our local milongas is called “the Streelight Milonga” because it is out of doors, under the street lights.
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