Champ by     Susan Kohn Green  Dec. 23, 2017 

I saw Champ yesterday.

He was on the sidelines

Of the school yard

Dancing away to some rhythm he heard,

His body engrossed in the music in his ear.

Champ was a boxer

No, not a boxer, but the Boxer

Who had fought in the ring 

Oh, forty years ago or so.

He lives down the block

In the projects where beautiful Rosita lived

Before she died.

I saw him from a distance

Feet skipping against the cement

Like a soft shoe dancer

And outside the fence surrounding the courtyard

With my shopping cart - 

The one with the red cherries sprinkled over it - 

I had to start.

My feet began to shuffle,

In the rhythms,

The way he used his;

A bit awkward at first,

Finding the beat,

But getting it down, matching him.

“Babe, I like your smile!”

His voiced waved at me across the court.

I felt his beat, kept going,

Did a bit of a kick, a bit of a turn.

He foot-worked his way toward me

In time with his music                                          

And at the fence between us

Put his earpiece in my ear

To hear what he heard

And we both did a bit of a hip hop                                       

Nodding into each other’s eyes

When I saw a couple coming down the street

Now, I know, they couldn’t see Champ

On the other side of the fence,

But they could see me,

A shape alone, bouncing around

In the middle of the sidewalk

For no reason: 

No music, no partner just a jig and a jog

Of the shoulders, the hips, the feet

A jazzy mini-pirouette

And joy on my face

Close, closer they came

Only a bit hesitantly

Almost edging away from

The creature on the sidewalk -  me - 

Dancing by herself,

Until they came close enough 

to see Champ there, too

Doing his hip hop with me; his therapy, my fun.

They laughed - 

A nice understanding laugh, enjoying the two of us

Wishing, maybe that they could join in.