The Jitterbug--Momma Poem 1

On one rainy May day
Back in the mid nineteen seventies
Momma came to me and said
"It is time for you to learn how to dance.
When you meet a girl and get married
you will be thankful that I taught you
how to dance."
She flipped through her record collection
looking for records to dance to.
"When your father and I were young
we did the Jitterbug," she said.
Jitterbug I thought.
What a crazy name for a dance.
Mother put a record on the phonograph player.
It was Glen Miller,
Tommy Dorsey or some other performer
from her day. The nineteen forties
The years in which my parents met at
high school and courted each other
to high school dances.
She would take me in her arms
and we would dance in the living room.
She moved so gracefully.
I moved so awkwardly.
I was eight years old
and it felt strange dancing with my mother
but I enjoyed the stories she would tell
about when they were growing up
and how the music of their day
was so nice compared to my brother's
acid rock. We'd dance and all the while
my eyes would peer out the window
wondering if someone was watching.
After all who wants to be seen
dancing with their mother.