Trucking
When Popa danced the Jitterbug, he wagged a
single finger in the air, unaware that
it’s the sign for understand. He moved so smooth.
Trucking, it’s called—her first lesson that music
lives in the body, not the ears. Now, when her
pitch frays at the ends, he’s there. Finger journeys
across the palm. Twin arms rise to the sky. Hand
made letters round each other over the heart
over again. “What a Wonderful World,” she
sings in silence, their hymn in rhythm, like his
hips and shoulders wed on the living room floor.
Copyright 2022 by Sally Toner
Bio:
Sally Toner is a High School English teacher who has lived in the Washington, D.C. area for over 25 years. Her poetry, fiction, and non-fiction have appeared in Northern Virginia Magazine, Gargoyle Magazine, District Lit, Watershed Review, Porcupine Lit, and other publications. She lives in Reston, Virginia with her husband and two daughters. Her first chapbook, Anansi and Friends, from Finishing Line Press, is a mixed genre work focusing on diagnosis, treatment, and recovery from breast cancer. She can be found at SallyToner.com and on Twitter @SallyToner.
30 for 30 is sponsored by Potomac Review
Cutesy poem. Makes you feel good. Congratulations Sally, keep on trucking.
Ladi Di
Love this poem. “Single finger in the air” describes my dad too. Thanks for awakening the memory.
Excellent piece! At once a beautifully sustained image and a personal and emotionally charged narrative, with sharp particular details and diction. Love it.