March 25, 2011

Song and Dance

I am a toe-tapper.
I wait for the music to swing
and I sing the words under my breath
as the melody is sweeping up
into chords
vibrant and triumphant and
shining into the dark like a
night light.  I hum harmonies
and pick out thirds above
or below and add
my own notes despite groans
when I miss the mark
just a bit.

I am a clapper-along.
I wait for the rhythm to tell me
that I belong in the middle,
bouncing a strong down-beat
with my feet on the ground
or my palms on my thighs
and the sound of my stride
makes music as I walk.
Even if I'm wrong and the
tempo trips me up--long
instead of short or I have to
clap on quarter notes instead,
my body picks the time
and I climb stairs with a lilt
so that the music in my head has percussion.

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