Dancing With Pat

I wrote this for my friend and then Zumba teacher, Pat, in honor of her birthday in 2009.  The music, the dancing, and her enthusiastic spirit while teaching inspired me.  

This poem was later published in the Tarrant County College Literary Journal.

 

Dancing with Pat
By: Donna Hunter – November 2009

 

I wanna be like Pat.

I wanna dance like that!

She’ll show me how.

Ok, watch her feet.
Ain’t they sweet?
Ok, yeah, my feet can do that!

If I can just get mine to keep doing
What hers do
Then maybe the rest of me will follow.

Oh I don’t know. 

She’s so hot and purty.
Sigh . . . I feel so white and nerdy.

Can I do this?

Glance up and see that energetic smile,
Those bright eyes, looking right at me in the mirror.
She’s nodding her head at me like she thinks I’m doing well . . .

Maybe I can.

Smile, listen to the music, keep going.

Hey, look at my feet go!
They are going just like Pat’s!

Woo Hoo!  I’m awesome.
I love this music!  I’m doing it!

Wait a minute . . .

WHAT is her butt doing? 

Does she have a motor in that thing?

Groan.

Overweight, out of shape, Would Be Ballerina
Heaves a sigh and tries to keep up with Little Fit Latina.

Can’t let all that footwork go to waste.
I’ll start slow on the wiggle and work my way up.

She go boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom!
I go . . .boom . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  boom . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . !

She go boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom!
I go  . . boom . . . . . boom . . . . . boom . . . . . .boom . . . . .! 

Yeah that works.  I’m getting there.  I’m dancing with Pat.  

Feet – check.

Wiggle – check.

Arms?! – shit.

Ok, watch her hands, do what they do . . .

Dammit.

Lost the feet.

Start over.

Keep dancing. 

Friends smile.

We’re all beautiful. 

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About dahnajeen

I'm Donna Jean Hunter. My 3rd grade teacher, Mrs. Patterson told me I was a great writer and would be an author when I grew up. She always had me read my stories to the class, and even took me around to the other classrooms to have me read to them. I'm pretty sure the other kids all hated me that year. I don't care though. I love Mrs. Patterson. Of course she did not know then about the Internet and blogging and how much of what people read would no longer be on paper when I grew up. I have had a few things published in a college literary journal, and once, for a few weeks--until it threatened to kill me with boredom and I quit--I actually received pay for working as a technical writer. But so far, I have not been able to say that I'm a writer in the sense that it is what I do for a living. I still sort of dream of that happening one day. But in the meantime, I teach high school English, and can't stop being a writer whether anyone reads it or not. I hope someone enjoys some of it.
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