One Last Dance

Weeping willows on dead Swans' Lake Ballerina shoes too small, hanging on rusted nails I keep on waking up from giggled dancing lessons Mother still alive in the waiting room - proud... Shaking fingers crossed, holding my fans' bouquets My hair not gray, teasing life on pirouettes It started snowing glitter of way long childhood gone I scream a violent silence through a double paned sliding dream It's time - the time when clocks face me without hands - I shyly grab some "What if's" and remember to tie my shoe laces " Stand straight, chin up" - a stage light on a solo swan A last and gracious slide on an untangled musical key...