Sky Dancer

I always seem 
to lose myself
in the clouds

the towering
ever shifting columns 
of ashy smoke

how they dance 
in the morning sun
like the memory

of an almost 
forgotten ballet
unfolding in front

of my drowsy
mind. the dancer
enters stage

left. with the
grace of an angel
she slowly

glides across 
the stage, presenting
her dress of

rose petals to the 
mesmerized crowd.
she flares under

the spotlight of 
center stage, extending
her arms to 

the rafters 
before slipping
across to 

the midnight
curtains. leaving me
alone in a dark theater,

enchanted.