Slow, Slow, Quick Step

by Steven J. Serafiani

I stood with my whisky firm in right mitt
leaned against the wood panels
shoulder rubbed a giant faux painting
the table’s flameless candle burned dim

Whoa man,
the big band played man!
swing man!
the upright walking circles
Rosemary rendition then
Dizzy my head

looked through a corridor of couples on
that dance floor
a pinch of youth but
most were fifty year plus partners
and man oh man they were in tune
slow, slow, quick step
slow, slow, quick step quick step
their old legs had a spark
age didn’t show
except in the white hair
and teletype skin
the spins
the dips
they perfected this before I
was a glimmer in pop’s eye.

wanted to find my partner and ask,
“Dame, let’s find ageless together;
grow short, drink whisky in Lindy
and syncopate through calendar turns together.”