I could have danced…

…with the flashing dragonflies, inbetween the cattails

…among the willow branches, languid light and wind, my partners

…with suspended sunmotes in the slanted light through my window

I could have danced…

…with the swinging, swoop of the barn swallows

…in rivulets of rain, or bathed in concentric circles on the lake face

…with the buzzing song of the bee, dusted with gold

I could have danced…

…with the single-toothed, grinning baby boy

…like the scarlet kite, high and brazen, arms spread scandalously against azure possiblities

…in and out of the sun-kissed, crisp cloth whipping on the line

I could have danced…

…airy and free and gripped in a dripping rainbow bubble-dance

…like the blue eyes of the groom as he sees her

…like the curled fronds of fern in spring, uncoiling, springing, Lazarus come forth-like

I could have danced…

…like the pink and orange tango of sunrise, or the gold fairy dusting thrown about at sunset

…in the moonshine, lighthouse of the night, guiding this lost ship

…like the liquid float of my red, gigham curtains on the breeze

I could have danced…

…like the cat-cozy curl of my coffee steam purring into the morning

…in the icy, whisper of diamonds breathed from my lips on a January morn

…in the sun sparks off the river, glittering dragon’s hoard

…and I could have danced when the ink flowed rich, velvet blood to the pulpy page

But I didn’t.

~

A.M. Pine