Sunday, December 30, 2007


Dancer-a surprise reflection of self

I glance into the mirror
And see
The golden child upon the stairs.
Still smiling from beneath the cares:
I see my face, eyes wise and worn,
Behind the child's eyes,
Tinged forlorn.

I hear her music:
Memories lilting past,
Turning to listen
I see that happy dancer
Giggling on the stairs,
Pirouetting through the seasons.
Leaving the cement walking to the woman outside.
Smiling from the stairs,
Still the golden child, but not.

Old woman sits rocking on the porch.
She is only yesterday, her future recedes.
And in the twilight
She sees the ballerina,

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