Parts
Parts
I am made of parts.
Sometimes the parts work together,
then I can dance.
But when they do not
all grace dissipates
and I lose my balance.
Feet get ahead of themselves,
My brain shuts down or goes elsewhere,
My emotions not only lead me astray
But stare with disbelief that I followed!
I met her while dancing.
We took some steps,
and danced well.
I was comfortable and happy.
But before long my good sense and
emotions had parted ways.
Emotions kept reminding me
of all the ghosts cruising the hospital,
who had run out of time too soon.
There is not always time to do it right.
So at their urging
I tried to leap from Modern Dance 101
to the American Ballet Company.
I really did wish to dance...
but the toe shoes shattered my
feet of clay and left me in ruin.
My emotions got stupid
and didn't pay attention
to the obvious:
The dance is a delicate thing.
Rushing has left my parts disparate
Pieces of heart strewn about;
I can't find them all.
Tears.
When I close my eyes tightly
I hear thunder.
Tears.
© 2007 Deborah Bolle
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