Dance

I liked to tap on the wooden floor

I liked the rhythm, the pulse –

It made me feel alive, real

Like my breaths counted for something

I could beat a steady pattern for long minutes

It made me smile – though nobody saw

I think I even laughed

How good it was to be allowed to move

Even though I had to wait until the house was empty

To dance – to come alive

Perhaps the computer key strokes are my new dance

The place where I am allowed to exist

The space and movement that is mine alone

Words dance too I think

Secretly I bend and stretch, reconnect with my battered body

Like a chick emerging from an egg

The spirit of dancing, being free, cannot be amputated from my soul

Not like limbs – that really makes me smile