The Serious Moonlight

Well, the M. Ward album I spoke of a while back has arrived. Dan Ward had lent it to me for a while, I'd listened to it quite a bit, so I was excited about getting it. I'd forgotten, however, that toward the end of the album is a cover of David Bowie's Let's Dance, done slowly and gracefully, as if it were late one night in a smoky jazz club, and only three people were still there to listen to the pianist and the guitarist work. Let's dance. Put on your red shoes and dance the blues. Let's dance to the song they're playin' on the radio. Let's sway while color lights up your face...Let's dance for fear your grace should fall. Let's dance for fear tonight is all. Let's sway. You could look into my eyes. I think I've spoken of that song before, I love it. If you should fall into my arms and tremble like a flower. The potentially annoying thing about this, of course, is if you have never heard the song, and sentiments like "let's sway" become simply "let's sway." Not "let's celebrate a night that can be foggy and starry at the same time, in which it can be midnight and moonlit, in which the faeries leave us undisturbed on the cobbled streets, and on which the dress you are wearing matches miraculously with your shoes."



What a romantic idea...and I so unromantic. I'm scared of dancing. There wasn't even dancing at our wedding. But I wish I could. Dance, that is. The serious moonlight.