10/29/2025

Not so long ago a sight strange to me

beheld in quaint beauty tucked away,

heralded me by a tune of

Pachelbel’s artillery,

I strayed a thin path to find a looking hole

wherein they were:

ballerina and her danseur,

first apart at the edge of a grassy clearing,

waving grass the playthings of nervous toes,

What a lovely melody!

Nearer they came, flaunting about

from one side of the clearing to another–

Before–

–There!

Touch! 

Hold! 

La!

Da dee da, da dee da!

Dadeedadeedadeeda,

da dee da, dadeedadeedada,

and around and around each other they went

until the melody settled and the music quieted,

and the hole closed in upon itself

and I was left to wonder about what I had seen.