Joy

This morning at breakfast
My daughter was dancing
To the muzak piped into the restaurant.

We started to sway in our seats,
Then we stood and swayed
And we moved more and more
Until we were whirling dervishes
Spinning in delight
In the middle of a public place.

And she helped me remember
The elation of dancing —
Whether or not anybody is watching —
Moving gleefully only for
Ourselves.