I never, ever miss a chance
To learn a Greek or Cretan dance:
I love the music and the moves
But something, somehow then removes
My certainty in what to do –
Now three steps right, or is it two?
A full pace or a little slip?
A hold of hands or shoulder grip?
The clash is fatal too for me
Twixt what I hear and what I see.
With me and teacher face-to-face
His right foot moving out a pace
Is to my eye a leftward shift
So I move left and come adrift
From those who do know where to go
Or I step hard on someone’s toe.
I sometimes think I need for me
A hazard warning, like at sea.
Perhaps this job would do as well
A leper’s tinkling little bell
To warn potential partners that
They run a risk of being knocked flat.
I am the only guy you’ll meet
With Alzheimer’s in both his feet.
