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.
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