On Dancing before Bed

Don’t save the music for the very end
of night, when it’s too late to go to bed,
when sleepiness has gone and come and sped
again from out your body while you spend
every drop of afterlight on plans
you hoped you’d satisfy before your supper
but knew would take those latest hours or better
to finish. Leave them, little skips and turns
of thoughtwork, executed while your person
slouches ever lower in the seat
until you notice, or until you quit,
remembering your promise to the form
you move around in—dance, every day—
and in your last few minutes vertical,
tilt yourself off center, let the muscle,
the joint and bone show what they wait to say: