Dancing Through Life

His arm tenderly encircles my waist,
his hand on the small of my back
ever so slightly pressing, moving
me in rhythm with his own steps
as we hear the music that recalls
the times of our childhood together.
Others we know do ballroom dancing
for us a ritual has evolved whereby
we do kitchen dancing in response
to a weekly Saturday night radio
program celebrating the sweet
music of the 50s, when we first
met and resolved that being with
one another represented the
aspirations of our lives. And so
we dance, just as we did so long
ago, and the tactile remembrance
of those long-ago days vibrantly
resonates as the warmth of his body
sears mine, and we move in a steady
and graceful recollection of songs
whose words still reflect how we felt
predicting as they somehow did
our destination through life, together.