Saturday, January 7, 2012

the dancer

sometimes you see
her dancing
in the window.
the blinds
open, the curtains
drawn back.
she is wearing
black and has
her hair up on
top of her head.
people come from
all around
to stand there
on the sidewalk
at night
and watch her
dance. she is
always alone,
and there is no
music that you
can hear from
the street below,
but you can see
her arms go
round, her hips
sway, her
back bend, you
can see the smile
on her face
as she dances
about the room.
she seems to remember
something or
someone that
has made her happy
in the past
and you think how
lucky she is.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

i know her. she'd love this poem. i'll send it to her because its sure to put a smile on her face.