She looked almost as she appears now
Not quite so emaciated
Still some glimmer of cognitive force
My mother sat in one of the chairs
From our old dining set

Bowie’s Let’s Dance began to play
And I responded to the song’s invitation
And my mother who had not stood in years
Arose and began a somewhat wild
A rippling somewhat reckless dance

Another dream of transit I thought
Move your arms a little less I said
And her movements took on a statelier pace
And we danced as people do a little space between us
And then my mother sat down again