The Dancer


The Dancer

Crimson red bands of satin

draping the stretched taut muscles—

delicate, yet strong.

Head back, left arm touching heaven

while keeping her pliant hold on earth.

Dancer flying free,

leaping in line with the velvety burgundy suede below.

She lands so softly, like a sleek and slender cat,

hushing the whisper of the ribbons.

A brief moment of silence,

then the gasps and the glory—

the reward from the crowd fills the hall.

She smiles and bows,

Content for a while longer

to remain earthbound.

By Mrs. Krebs