The music is blaring out into the night
My spirit comes alive
Dormant awakening the me that’s within
Without, I can’t survive.
Delight in disguises that wrap round the room
As all are so amused
Connected but not to the mind that would cease
Pooper I’m not accused.
The turning of tunes as the lights are all dimmed
A freedom unsurpassed
A careless abandon of how it appears
Friends join in, what a blast.
But night moves on late to the wee-ness of time
And wind down must commence
The spirit must settle right back in its place
In mom-ness common sense.
Yet note there it’s sure that the joy will arise
Again for love of song
A part it is played in the duty of day
But “dancer” remains lifelong.
Paula Antonello Moore, Poetry. Copyright: Monday, September 26, 2016
Image: Dancers from Ballet Bitterroot