Monday, April 21, 2014

Balleto - by Bob Atkinson

(c)2014 Bob Atkinson
she stood there en pointe
as if a statue made
to engage all hormonal flows
of men who watched her fade

into a somber lifeless body
of sweetness carried through
to movements Enrico taught her
some abrupt, some flowing smoothly
here on polished marble floors
arms spread out as tufted plumes
delightful in her poses practiced
as if Taglioni had returned
in that empty room this night
Sylphide was danced again for lust
beneath a hunter moon red glow
she to the light looked up

that body of the woman girl
danced for none around
yet soared up toward bright stars
never touching ground

a ribbon twisted in the wind
as sister to the dancer
both floated feather light
paying homage to the master
 Chris Dellorco
"en Pointe"
she made a point, then retired
to feel a heart beat fast
giving herself broad satisfaction
that she'd done her best in dance

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