The Dancer

The Dancer Early morning. Sun climbing in its ascent Over the mountain crescent lip Throwing its fan of light. The great log room quiet As the player sits to begin. The soft flowing notes Fill the space And the music unfolds in the quietness. Lost in that aloneness of sound, Out of the corner of his eye, Wraith like she appears. Dressed in a gauzy Ballerina dress with off the shoulder straps, The almost three year - old dancer glides Silently with the moving notes, Interpreting what she hears in her own way Completing the circle of her quiet dreaming. David Holmes June 20, 2021