Empty dance floor

The empty patio conjures memories
of a school dance floor
festooned in crepe paper,
birds chattering on the sidelines
like students in their finery,
dropped off, coaxed inside
with a parent’s murmur,
ushered in with a brief lecture;
have fun, but don’t touch anyone.


Many of us could write a book about the horrors of middle school dances, from the perspective of a student or as a chaperone years later. Anyone want to share? (G-rated only)

Via #dailypost, #dVerse, #MondayPoetryPrompt


  1. Took me back to my early dance days. My sister was a model, and my mother made her clothes, and as I was the same size as her (developed early), I wore my sister’s wild clothes. Years later that is what people remember me for, lol.

    Liked by 1 person

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