Contradance
Not squares,
they stand in long lines waiting
for the call.
Women and men
at times outrageously proper but
more often sedately
improper,
greeting neighbors,
trail buddies and
even lost cousins
on the way to the top
or bottom
where improper roles reverse.

Swingers all,
they swirl and spin, balanced
for an instant.
Afloat a fiddle tune
hand grasps hand,
clutches waist
quicker than a breath
as faces blur and thought
departs leaving
dancers riding
the cresting wave
of the unchained flow
and laughing.

-Judith Laura
(Published in Pudding Magazine #30)

This poem is now available with graphic as illustration for March in Judith Laura's Calendar of Art and Words at  http://www.cafepress.com/judithlaura.13337285