Awkward Hoedown

On a known street in our town
where small ones come shop for fun
I’d like a jumping slinky
to give to Fred, my grandson.

A guy in segmented robe
nodded when I show up there.
I was unaccustomed to
bug red hair as if on fire.

Giving us extra tickets
to the centipede hoedown–
the group really back in town?
We go quickly through seasons.

I grabbed some for Fred and me,
sat below an old park tree
with our zoomed in point of view.
We did what other boys do:

awkward sweeping steps to right,
back as many curves to left,
then twirl your date all about.
Watch your laces! Move on now!
Spin your partner, let her go!

Fred’s studying, down on knees.
This squiggle, swing, stomp and roll–
I’m above the leafy stage.
Where’d the age of slinky go?

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