Caren Krutsinger Poet Prose Poetry

She Was a Dancer On Fire

She was a quintessential dancer on fire
The audience was leaping with her
Cobalt blues swirled in my head with each leap

She was an honest dancer with spirit
Bronze skin shimmering
Taunt muscles at the ready, I was a dancer!

She was a story-telling actress
Goldenrod glistened on her brow
Peach dancing shoes pirouetted prettily

I tasted lemon and raspberry as she twirled
Trying to follow her around the stage
Feeling colorful, beautiful and young again myself.

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Gershon Wolf March 7, 2022 at 9:04 PM Funny how that works, isn't it? Our mind takes over our bodies, and it/they think that anything is possible... Happens in dreams too... I wake up not infrequently thinking that I can run and jump again... Would you believe walk down the stairs normally? ~ Agent 86 Caren Krutsinger March 8, 2022 at 2:22 AM I do believe in our dreams we are invincible and convinceable.

L Milton Hankins March 7, 2022 at 10:03 AM I think that's part of the beauty of dance...the audience can dream along as your last line says. Caren Krutsinger March 7, 2022 at 10:20 AM I think so too