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Pale limbs, vestigial breasts, long, slender alabaster neck,
In classic first position she stands alone in the spotlight,
Center stage, accepting her last applause.
It's tumultuous tonight, but midst cheers and bravas
She's certain she heard some guffaws.
Statuesque and sublime, she reflects that it's time
To quit the glittering world of ballet.
No longer breathtaking "Cracking Nuts" or "Swanlaking",
She can't pirouette, arabesque, or plier,
And gets no elevation when she tries to jeter.
She's danced with the best, and loved more than a few.
They'll enshrine all her tutus and her best toe shoes, too.
So adieu to the realm of the dancing elite,
She's known the thrill of victory and the agony of the feet.
She'll open an academy in the southern part of France
And teach a whole new generation of future stars to dance.
And one day, when she's all alone,
She may write about the life she's known
When she was queen of her arena
And reigned as Prima Ballerina.

Author's note: A professional dancer's career endures for only 15-20 years, in most cases. Unbeknownst to many people, dancing, like some sports, takes an enormous toll on the human body. So I applaud these artists for their strength, and courage, and stamina so that the rest of us mere mortals can enjoy the grace and beauty they give to the world through their dedication and sacrifice. This is also for Cherry, a friend and sometimes teacher.

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