Dance

By the door of the living room
away from the adults
a girl dances.
Lost in her own world
lost in shadows
dreaming unknown incandescent things
that even now she cannot fathom.
But the echoes of those dances
float across years.
Each subsequent dance
at a wedding or festival
evoking something
until she finds, in middle age
a need and urge to dance again
to feel the echoes, sense the incandescence.
Just once more.

Copyright © 2018 Kim Whysall-Hammond

Originally published at (along with Boy Migrant, Watercolour time  and The overwhelming sky)  at http://www.longshotisland.com/2018/01/26/bridge-poems/

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