Once, Dear Don, I Danced With You

Kim Pearson
English Department
The College of New Jersey

Once, dear Don, I danced with you

A slow and easy bop back to shared spaces, different times

You were West Philly oldhead to my North Philly funk

I was a bridge note in your syncopated symphony

Do you remember that Sunday afternoon

When our feet traced touchstones and boundaries between us?

How we had learned to listen through the spaces and the silence

Like Miles floating over a Stanley Jordan groove

Our clasped hands held the memory of our mutual friend, Mike,

Who left before either of us got to speak peace to his fire.

He tripped because of your spin on Baraka

He fled me because I lacked his queer eye

Our shuffling feet, slide, step, step, slide

Your beat, my echo, like I was your flipside

While you remembered the past you didn’t live in it

You could let go, go solo, do a spin and move on

Once, dear Don, I danced with you

And I learned that you let each of us have our own private Don-song

In mine, you are a favorite uncle at the family reunion

And we glide to a melody that has no end

______________________________________

February 7,2004