"Suddenly I wanted to stand up and dance a bit, because I used to like
folk dances too. But something in me said: No, you are not to dance."

Before the war
I used to do the folk
in my small lit parlor
on the linoleum
as the breeze cools my skin
I always dance barefoot
for to feel the ground under
is to hear the tempo of my beating heart

tonight
my husband joins me
he does not have the rhythm of the folk

to move his war torn feet swiftly across the linoleum
it is winter
the war had buried my husband
I can't hear his feet thud on the linoleum
or hear the ruffle of his trousers
nor see his smile
he is displaced
and I dance alone