Two Tutus, Too
Two tutus, too
Laying on the ground
Ballet slippers strewn all around
One complete wall with mirrored glass
Chattering girls waiting dismissal of class.
A gaggle of Moms waiting patiently
Knitting and needlepoint surrounding me
The one lone island of masculinity
That rare father with custody.
I smile at my ballerina and she smiles back at me
We’ve been on our own ever since she was three
I just love being her Daddy
And don’t mind the role of also being Mommy.
We stay a little longer at the end of class
She shows me her plies in the looking glass
She smiles at my reflection and says, “I love you”
We pack up her slippers and the
Two tutus, too.
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