Grass Dancers

I can’t remember the last time I twirled,
hair flying and arms flaying as I went round
and round until the world began to blur.
Somehow I grew up,
so I sit in the grass
fearing it might stain
my over-worried outfit. I listen to the music
but the man with the scarfs seems to feel it in an
unfiltered way that I haven’t since childhood.
Untamed white hair
and tie-dye tunic
billowing as he whirls.
His haphazard dancing calls to a few children
so he pulls out scarf after scarf like a circus clown,
handing them out to his motley crew who are
jumping and spinning
in a rainbow haze
to the sound of the banjo.
This unbridled spectacle of play is childish
and messy. It’s wildly undignified, which makes
the grass dancers all the more alive and free.

2 thoughts on “Grass Dancers

  1. this was so spot on , I live in the South and the grass here is not as lush as back home so grass dancing is not much fun, This brought back so many lazy summer afternoons by the lake and grass dancing into the evening . When evening arrived we would lay on the grass call out different years and wonder where we would be and what we would be doing . Miss those times

    Liked by 1 person

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