The Ballroom

by Cheríe

It's a waltz for the elegant
and refined.
The ballroom is alive tonight
with colorful hoop skirts swishing in every direction and
glasses clinking.
White-gloved hands extend gracefully for a
polite kiss.
Feet are moving everywhere, from the
practiced steps of the dancers
to the elderly gentleman tapping his
toes to the music
to the
slippers of the child hiding
under the table.
Music sets the evening's tempo
and mood: happy and exciting. The
orchestra in the corner sways as the musicians
play . . .
violin, viola, cello and a big double bass
blending into a symphony.
Old maids beside the punch table
gossip of engagements and scandals.
Painted young ladies are falling
in love with dashing young men
or rolling their eyes at their friends as a
clumsy oaf steps on their toes, or
fanning themselves by the wall and wishing they would be
asked to dance.
In the far, dark corner,
the negro girl in
a maid's outfit
stands still, holding a tray of goblets.
Her feet ache,
but she is
twirling inside.

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