It’s Friday. Time to write free. Won’t you join us over at the Gypsy Mama?
This weeks prompt: Dance
all tulle and ribbons flying out about their tiny hips.
Wobbly pirouettes on baby legs, some with chubby rolls enveloped by pink tights
Their feet alternate between tentative little skips
with pointy toes
and loud jarring thumps as they land on the glossy wooden floor.
Hair drawn into severe buns
Perched high atop foreheads creased with concentration.
Most forget to smile, their eyes following the teacher
offstage, guiding the routine
Bobby pins and Aquanet
pink flushed cheeks and a swipe of mommy’s pink gloss
The world is a stage
And all eyes are on them
Light explodes like paparazzi, frenzied and flashing
Proud parents with Cannons and Kodaks
The music ends and the applause carries them
into a curtsy, and then they remember.
They are dancers. They are beautiful and wondrous. They are strong and glorious.
The crooked line of miniature faces grin wide and giggle.