The Studio

About my dance studio.

---------

The music that is booming
Carries me away
To somewhere where I’m
Inside the composition,
Moving to the beat.
Loud and booming,
You hear it everywhere.
Sneakers stomping and squeaking,
Making those black scuffs,
Add power to the steps.
You wonder if it’s you,
And try to do it again.

Teachers barking out counts,
From one to eight.
Perfecting and encouraging
Their sweating students.
Laughing when we get a move wrong,
We get right back up
And take it
From the top.

The white and black
Set of barres
Are where we practice footwork.
Standing straight,
Supporting us.
Dancers stare the mirror down
As they put on their show face.
Never having low self esteem,
Keeping our eye on ourselves.

Shoes are scattered,
Sprinkled,
Thrown everywhere.
Helping us do our best steps.
Tumbling mats
For those difficult moves.
Breaking our falls
In the rehearsals.

The strong odor from
All the dancers,
Working hard.
Sweat.
Sneakers, also,
Can be smelled.
Not so pleasant,
But oh-so-worth it
To be here.

Tangy Gatorade,
The choice of drink for dance,
Splashes down my throat,
Anxious to hydrate my aching body.
To even out the flavor,
I sip a bottle of water.
My body, heaving,
Is thankful for the break.

When I am here,
At the studio,
I feel so free.
After practice is over,
I walk out the doors,
And I still feel that
Special groove.

----------

Comments?!