The Dancer
Anne Fraser
She stands barefoot by the open door,
slipping easily through well scrubbed floors
and warm rising scents of candles' wax.
A captive of the evening breeze, fringed white feather
with the inborn sense of flight to hold her balanced,
arms extended, a dancer upon gleaming slivers.
She wears sheerness, hibiscus and peridot crocheted in silk
as stars into the evening, thoughts that sway
in willow trees, the heart resides in golden amber.
Humming with back arched and fingers curved
in perfect pose, she remains to await both the coming
of the silkworm and the wider side of the horizon.
© 2002 Anne Fraser
Young
Girl in a Frame
© 2002 Anne Fraser |
