“The Dancer”

Every chance I get, I dance 

Swaying to and fro to the sounds of my own music

My hips pop, crackling like kindled tinder

But first, I need a light 

I wait patiently for it 

A user not a beggar, accepting whatever offering comes my way

Once I’m warmed up, I sway

There is a myth that I let the wind move me

It isn’t true

My dance is a chase

Hunting air like a whale seeks kelp

Sucking it in – it’s life

My attire can change

It is often hues of yellow, orange, and red

The desert sunset confined to me

I often wonder if I should have a partner, a tango or a waltz

But the movement on my solo tightrope has too much appeal

My unrestrained rhythm needing no lessons, running no risk of misunderstanding

My only sorrow comes when the night or the occasion or the private rendezvous comes to an end

The gust is released

My fragile grip slips

I’m cast off my line without a harness, like a spider dislodged from its web

I’m always ok

Ego bruised more so than anything else

I bid my time for that next dance 

For that hand to offer me a light

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Published by christophergabrielwrites

I am an author slinging short stories along with the almighty novel. I have been writing since my high school days on through to adulthood, moved over the years by my peers and the prose of the greats. The written word is my burning passion. Besides writing (and also reading a lot) I spend my time being: a dad to a beautiful little human that is growing too fast (along with parenting a few pet animals), a husband, and an avid traveler to the wilderness. I graduated from Purdue University and I live in Chicago, IL.

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