Temptation fled
will to dance gone
flat on a bed
from dusk to dawn.

Death can be cruel...
What do we know?
They just disappear
no idea where they go.

Yet, uncle has this effect on me...
He's not here, but this sting must be he!

Mother said, be quiet! don't tap your feet!
She can't hear this melody sounding sweet...
No dancing today, I'll be a statue.
I won't move, like I ran out of glue.

Procession was long, I couldn't see past
Heads of the elders, relics of the past.
It's not raining, but their faces are wet.
Him, her, her, I know, the rest I forget.

Now at the grave, we all say our farewell.
Look at my feet, they're beginning to yell!
Uncle wouldn't want me glued to still,
he would want me tapping, flexing my will.
I'll show them, and I'll never let them stop,
my mourning dance, or my weak heart will pop!

Jump into the rhythm, steadily go,
my movements with him, I want him to know
that he was special, and I'll tap away
today, tomorrow, tomorrow, today.

You get down from there now! My mother does shriek.
Is this how you treasure moments so meek?
I couldn't hear her, and I couldn't know
how over-the-line innocence can go.
I danced for the heavens, uncle will see,
he's playing a song for me and my feet.

Someone took me down, mother boxed my ears.
The day that followed answered all my fears.

Now I don't dance on a day of mourning.
Being old, I understand the warning
but my daughters sing when we lose a kin
an idea can break you, or let you win.