An Unlikely Dancer - Poem by Alison Cassidy
I wondered if she had come to the right place
as she stood square
grey hair cut short,
mannish square face,
mannish square body
that had, she assured me,
hardly moved before in its life.
She's been coming to class now
for nearly two years.
And although the yoga postures defy a body
that hates to bend,
the music of her soul is gradually
transforming its brittle shell.
This week we danced as mannequins
posing for photographers.
'You know Allie, ' she said afterwards
with mock surprise.
'I've never thought of myself
as a mannequin before! '
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