it is proper
for a man to lead in waltz
to begin this slow dance on the killing floor  
‘twas the mother taught me thus, perhaps all mothers  
impart this notion--you lead, 1,2,3,and 4; 1,2,3,and 4  
glide, don’t walk, in this grand circle
make the loop, while looking in her eyes    
you will hear the song only
so long, and the music will drift away,
a friend becoming a stranger
her eyes, once gazing at your face
like it was the first sunrise
witnessed by two footed creatures,
will close, perchance before yours
until then, lead, 1,2,3,and 4
while the melody yet
graces the ground