The Eternal Dancer.
They called her the eternal dancer, you see
For her moves were as beautiful as art could be
Her face always focused and determined to the task
No one had ever seen her elsewhere, without this mask
Like a spinning gear, she was part of something bigger
It was like she was the flying bullet after the trigger
She tossed out her leg and jolted her wrist
She would dance on and on, come clarity or mist
Energized with a bounce here and a trot there
With every step, she was magnificent from toe to hair
Whirling around and about, to and fro
It was as if she was merely told, "go"
So onward she danced, forever within her spree
For she was the eternal dancer, you see.
April 1, 2020.