We are not English nor do we live in the country.
Yet in our everyday clothes and smooth-soled shoes
we dance together.
Delicate music swirls through the room
as we walk through the patterns.
Coaxed by the caller we join hands,
circle left, give and take, turn by the right,
go back to back.
For just a few hours the community suspends its everyday rules.
We dance with strangers, smile at everyone,
and gaze deeply into our partners’ eyes
if only to find a point of stillness
so that we will not be dizzy as we twirl.
In the dance we know that we are all graceful,
all capable of success, all fully accepted by each other.
And the music is always perfect.