The Dancer Poem by Laurence Overmire

The faces peer from the corner of the room
And watch every move her willowy hands make
The fingers opening and closing
Plucking the strings of an untuned heart.

Her form glides without restriction
Parallel to the barre
Through the words that choke and sting
The careless musings of glass-eyed fondlers.

She will not bend to the indignity of an idle charm
Nor stoop in supplication of a whim
Her flight is measured in headlong leaps
An unyielding music that springs from her soul

A taunting pirouette on pointed toe.

~ Laurence Overmire

(Previously published in New York Minute: An Actor's Memoir, Indelible Mark Publishing,2017)