For a year or more she tap danced
Everywhere she went
In slippers sneakers barefoot or flipflops
Even at school we were told
She sometimes employed her favorite mode of locomotion
It was really quite endearing

And yet we worried
Is she stalled stuck at some stage of development
Or is this just a phase she will outgrow
And if she does does that mean we no longer
Get to enjoy her tap dancing from the kitchen into the den
Or perhaps we can content ourselves with the recital
That comes along with each turn of the season

In the event the outcome
Came neither expectedly nor unexpectedly
For other interests came along
And her attention was seized by botany and softball
But we sometimes can’t help but indulge
The sharp nostalgia for flappety-flap at bedtime