An aged man in new tweed
takes the floor.
Brass band sets the stage
with a slow serenade.
Saxophone and trumpet
weave tapestries across the room.
His shuffle is careful
but fluid, deliberate steps
carry him across faded wood slats
with a young woman in costume. Tonight
she is a flapper. Another waits her turn.
He has dipped his wife.
He has dipped tourists.
He has dipped the room, like tea biscuits at noon,
soft for one more song.