"The 5th" by Josie Nabhan-Warren

It is July 5th in Halsey Hall

Little blue ballerinas flit around the ancient building

Far older than we can imagine

Energy pulses in every nook of its sturdy wooden skeleton

Our soft hands turn white as we grip the polished wood

Because we still haven’t learned control

A new piano plays an old song

Still spry, it swirls around us 

As if caught in a slipstream

And when we push open the windows

Because Halsey doesn't have air-conditioning

The music spills onto the street and dances there too

It means something to be here

We can feel like the sweat on our skin

The music, the dance, the walls, the rusty windows

That we push open to see

Clearly, the sky

And the people beneath it

And we’re all dancing

And the music is still dancing

Even when the pianist stops playing

We break our linear positions,

Race to the highest seat in the house

Aiming for the concrete sort-of balcony

That will no doubt rip 

our ballet-pink tights

But we don’t care

Energy still pulses in us, jumping like popcorn

The air is cooler outside than in our little studio

And when we finally reach our destination

Our bodies squeezed together like sardines on that slab of concrete

The sky lights up

A million stars reflected in our eyes