–Amy Engle


National Poetry Writing Month 2017 Poem #29


The beat swells, pounding in my head.

Muscles ache to move to the music.

Embarrassment makes me hesitate.

Balance and rhythm aren’t my best skills.

And yet I can’t resist any longer.

I sway my shoulders and bob my chin.

My inhibitions relax away with a sigh.

Dancing overcomes me and I become alive.