Google+ A Tangled Rope: Thursday Poem: Dance

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Thursday Poem: Dance

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Dance

Motion, always motion.
Movement is all there is.

The dancer glides
Through the moment,
Shaping invisible air
Into forms of memory.

Frozen by eloquent gestures
Space is altered, changed.
It becomes inhabited
by the reality of movement
Formed through poise and gesture.
The empty air acquires
The possibility of meaning.

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