To the Belly Dancer I Never Met
Every woman I meet seems named Cathy with a C
or Kathy with a K
Look
I went to your service
Silent Mormons sat in the front row
you had signed the Book
so they found you
Your earthly husband
mine now
sat still as a stele
a few rows back with me
And I
And I
wanted to belly dance
before your urn
possessed by music you’d left
Egyptian and Turkish dances
the doumbek calling me, the zils
I found in your silk purse
between my fingers, where
is my menit-necklace, my sistram?
Your dances too precious to just toss.
No woman would have so many, so many
if not for love
Beautiful use of the dancer’s imagery!
Thank you, Greg. It is haunting to think of her in life since I did not know her. But, in ways we are kindred spirits.
Love the repetition of “And I/And I” and then “so many, so many” like a chant. I wish you had belly danced at the funeral!!
That would’ve been something!
very nice ending!
I’m so glad you like it. I feel a kinship with her at times and a need to write about it.