Her head fell back and lids softly closed
Never–no, never had she been lighter on her toes
Every care within her mind had carelessly been left behind
Each sway turned up the clammy hand of a humid August breeze
The swing of her skirt caught upon the uplift and hung suspended
A small dip back before spinning away
her lips knew every song’s words that day.
They became her own, committed now to memory
Her fingers curled midair snatching the notes,
holding them hostage, clutched to her breast.
Never to be released…
She knows when the dream fades and the dance is complete,
hands pull back and eyes survey the pieces that remain.
Only to find the notes have slipped through her fingers yet again.
Her head falls back, lids softly close
Her mind searching for the last whispers of their song
Grey has set in, she has had her last dance
The was no last call, no stolen chance
She danced wildly that night
arms akimbo, her body took flight…
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Photo Credit: Shadows of Past by Lyubomir Bukov