Tango In Argentina

Tango in Argentina It was eons ago, in Buenos Aires, many of us around a table at a cafe I can’t remember why I was there think it was something to do with buying race horses. A woman asked me up to dance I first declined, shyness is my bane, after prodding I trotted up on the dance floor. The band played a tango, not that I hadn’t dance before, mother was a dance teacher, something happened, I forgot about my timidity just danced floating on a cloud of pleasure. We’re alone on the floor, when the music stopped, applause. Back at our table dad gave me a glass of wine, the dream continued. I wanted to marry Dona Juanita, my dancing partner; dad said no, she was married and too old for me. But I have never since been able to emulate the magic of the moment When I see a colt galloping across the pampas I know of the physical pleasure it feels, once it was me feeling exuberant and timeless in a world of everlasting youth.