Two steps forward, one step back,
stove fan whirring—off we go—
across the kitchen’s brown lino,
favorite cadence, tune and lyric
sounding in the evening’s music.
Our lead hands held out lightly,
one arm around the other torso,
two steps, one step—off we go—
footwork neither ballroom slick
nor tripping adolescent antic…
Bedroom comforts wait upstairs,
and then daybreak for solitaires.
One step, two steps—off we go.
INSTANT NOODLES 