Smoke Ballet Poem by Laura Russell

Smoke dances on specks of light
in flawless petticoats and pretty pleats
Full skirts billow upwards from the snuffed out flame
twisting and turning
twirling and twirling.
Perfect cloud white skirts flit an swirl
towards bright rays of sun spinning in
through the closed window.
On going trails of seemingly endless smoke tails
dance up and up and up,
into invisibility. Out of sight.

Her dance is serene, as is her scent.
She is fragile, delicate as paper-thin glass.
She dances harmoniously with her precious partner,
twirling in his warm embrace.
He wraps her in his bright awe
hands mimicing her curves and smooth femininity.
He loves her. I merely admire her.

Do I dare interveen on the magical dance of lovers?
Only wanting to feel his warmth, her beauty
Only wanting to be a tiny part of their magnificent display.
But I am merely their audience
Just watching and wanting and wanting.

I reach my hand up to touch the spiralling smoke
and they're gone.
Only the essence and admiration proveils.
I am left
uncreasing her skirts.


2003