Ballerina On The Street

A poem by Isabelle Sorrells

Pirouette and plie and twirls in the air

All landed on grinding and shifting stone.

The wind blew

To ruffle her tutu

And the remaining rain stained the silk ribbon protecting her toes.

The song was loud –

The tempo rough as a storm,

But she chased each note away

With the grace and power

Of a ballerina in command of the orchestra and all who were witness.

The wind, the rain, the song,

All danced to follow her lead.

The stage stood wherever she did,

The music played whenever she moved.

Her soul performed with the world.

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