The Dancer
The Dancer
Early morning.
Sun climbing in its ascent
Over the mountain crescent lip
Throwing its fan of light.
The great log room quiet
As the player sits to begin.
The soft flowing notes
Fill the space
And the music unfolds in the quietness.
Lost in that aloneness of sound,
Out of the corner of his eye,
Wraith like she appears.
Dressed in a gauzy
Ballerina dress with off the shoulder straps,
The almost three year - old dancer glides
Silently with the moving notes,
Interpreting what she hears in her own way
Completing the circle of her quiet dreaming.
David Holmes
June 20, 2021
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