Dad Dancing ...

Watching Dad Dancing, my eyes brimmed with tears - 

There, before me, were dads dancing with their daughters - their dances were brave and tender - 

I sat, a few feet away from Sophie, remembering the moments she was born - I heard her draw her first breath, breathing in the air of her new world - 

I thought of Tessa, born at home this time, in the bed I still sleep in - she'd been cradled by Sophie, who was dressed in a nurse's uniform - I'd held her precious weight against my heart - 

I then thought of my parents, each day now more insubstantial, dissolving into glimmering shadows - 

I gazed down at the dancers - they were dancing for all of us, I knew, even for me - 

20.00

November 15 2014

Battersea Arts Centre

London