the dance club

we used to meet at a dance
club
in a hotel around the beltway.

name tags were given out.

there was a long line of senior
citizens,
and younger,

dressed to kill, or casual
as a summer
day.

hair done, cologne dabbed on.
the ballroom
felt like a cruise ship.

the rows of tables,
the food line.

drinks at the bar, then
the music would start and the lights
would go down,

and everyone would look a little
younger,
a little better

as they reached out for a hand
in this shadowy world,
to dance
to a well known song.