You’re dancing on air again, my lovely;
naked in a velvet cloak and snow-white socks.
Tresses wind-borne, high as a comet’s tail,
piaffer with a ballerina’s grace.
In the cadence of your footfalls time
is stilled, your body held in perfect poise.
Yet with spirit free, running with the sky,
your beauty captive only in my heart.
by Elaine Atkins August, 2010