The Finale

May 2, 2011
By Fiorina94 SILVER, Clarkston, Michigan
Fiorina94 SILVER, Clarkston, Michigan
6 articles 10 photos 5 comments

An intoxicating rush
At near impossible heights
coupe arabesque pirouette

A quiet, gentle bird
nervous for its first time flying

A quick, sharp twist
back straight,
toes pointed.

The air whipping past your overly done face
as you run
In fifth of course
Legs splitting, stretching into a fantastic leap

With a gentle ‘poosh’ you delicately land on the stage
Back on Earth

Your thick tutu flutters below you
Like a young bird in its nest
rustling its plush wings

Except the nest is the stage
And i am the bird, flapping my wings
I prance across the stage
Twirling and dancing
Dancing and flying

Well ,almost flying
I’m almost there!
It’s time for the finale

Hair pulled up tight
The other dancers and I float across the stage
Entrancing the audience with our routine
I leap high into the sky when my solo arrives
My wings support me. My fear is gone.
And I soar


The author's comments:
I wrote this poem about the rush I experience when I dance.

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