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The Aplomb of Fred Astaire
by Ken HarnischIt’s been a long time since
I sat at the bar and watched
The parade of Saturday doves
Prancing by, soliciting drinks
They pay for with their smiles
I remember when my tongue was tied
And awkward, and my attempts at
Conversation were second only
To the disaster that was me and the bossa nova
Age has made me more dangerous
As a conversationalist. I can drop a line
With the aplomb of Fred Astaire, but alas,
Cannot dance much better than I could
All those years ago
It matters not. The doves seem to like
Poetry more than they do the hustle
And the words that fall from my lips
Are mellifluous now, and full of charm
Doves preen to be noticed
And I do so notice them. The eyes
May be jaundiced but they still see clearly
And if it comes down to a whirl out on the floor
Before the poetry takes effect, so be it
My two left feet can fake it for a song.
08/06/2010 Posted on 08/06/2010
Copyright © 2025 Ken Harnisch
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 08/06/10 at 06:31 PM I love it Ken. My wife has always said I should have learned to dance when I was young. As you, I can manage my way across the floor when she lets me walk on her toes. But I walk to the bar far better. Again great write. |
| Posted by Linda Fuller on 08/06/10 at 11:39 PM Like this a lot - never heard 'em called doves... |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 08/07/10 at 02:53 AM I enjoyed how you danced through the passage of time here, the "doves", and the poetry full of charm. Humorous, smooth. Thank you. |
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