Ballet School Poem by Babette Deutsch
Ballet School
Fawns in the winter wood
Who feel their horns, and leap,
Swans whom the bleakening mood
Of evening stirs from sleep,
Tall flowers that unfurl
As a moth, driven, flies,
Flowers with the breasts of a girl
And sea-cold eyes.
The bare bright mirrors glow
For their enchanted shapes.
Each is a flame, and so,
Like flame, escapes.
Monday, February 15, 2016
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4/25/2024 7:37:56 AM # 1.0.0.1119
