Sketching the Ballerina

*** Sketching the Ballerina *** It is well, quite well after midnight. My pup lies fagged on the blanket as close to me as possible. The young ballerina sits slightly slumped On a bench across from the barre, still wearing Her stage costume with its long net skirt. I am vexed that the sleeping hour has come. I grieve to leave her. She was looking with her black eyes Directly into my own, asking (as I’m asking myself), “How can I leave her with a twisted foot?” The enviable line of the ballerina’s foot, which “En pointe” Completes the geometry of the ballet: Toes coursing the lines of the legs, On diagonals or paralleling the arms On through to a pointing fingertip, With the addition of a superbly angled head. I grieve having to leave my sketch, to keep The pretty ballerina in a long-waiting lurch With her foot twisted, against all her dancer’s instincts; Against completion of her body line; Against all her trained and now natural inclinations Directed to set her preparation For beginning any elegance in motion; Add life to the already vibrant music; Wear her training posture unto every finale’s curtsy And well deserve the appluse that comes Along with the roses tossed up Around her perfect feet… I simply must put the pencil down, Wondering how soon before her Tears might fall while she waits for her foot to be drawn Correctly arched. The sketch’s error involves Perhaps a sixteenth of an inch here and there With the slightest touch of erasing…It’s The additional light of day, Which altogether should make a portrait worthy Of showing to St. Peter as he stands by The Gate. As she displays her weariness to me, I must beg her pardon, for it’s now nearly Three hours past midnight And my pillow begs for the lay of my head. My dismal skills must rest And wait for my sketchpad To be spread over with beams from The window’s morning sun. ————————————————————————————— (c) sally young eslinger 6/2023 Thanks be to God…