I see her, a fine line
cascading the settee robed,
her taut outline like a bow
or maybe an arrow arcing
en pointe in midair
She is a slow projectile
running toward me – suddenly she jumps
Overhead all in a tumble
of sorts till she falls
to the ground once again
running just prior to breaking
into dance and then pieces
Jigsaws, pirouettes,
silhouettes curl their shadows
upon lacy pulled curtains
ceiling to floor, wall to wall
day after day, and year to year
To be timeless – she said –
one needs to step aside –
so she did
Some people trust falling backwards
being caught by others around,
but I never will
Chagall 2018
Lovely….🤘👍🖖
Thank you, Sundaram. Much appreciated! —CC
All my pleasure…