*

*

“My mother she one hundred three year old

She drive all over.  She so healthy.  Why?

She dance.  All the time, she dance.

You dance, you live long, long.”

*

His luminous dark skin glows with sweat,

He grins, slaps a high five, “good job, good job”

Calls out a rhythm, “gaa-ga-ga-ga, left”

*

The drum is so loud it sets off a warning on my watch.

Wide arm swings, fast foot stamps

Sweat rivulets down my temples

Heart pounds—can I keep up?

*

I fling my arms, copy his gestures, his steps

Exhausted, exhilarated, big movements,

Breathe hard, hands high, rolling shoulders.

*

Nothing outside the dance,

My arms, hands, catch my sight,

I’m startled that they aren’t brown,

The pale skin not mine.

*

Perhaps a former lifetime revealed itself,

Or a future one.  The dance swallows me.

My diaphragm is the drum.  I express eternity.