Long, defined legs
Extend into the world,
Her stage.
Where her graceful feet
Would touch the
Glass littered, sun-forsaken ground
The wind swirls
To support her step.
Her languid touch
Brings forth
The pinks,
The yellows,
The greens.
They emerge from their shells
Of ash,
Of concrete
Of blanketing dust.
Under her
Clear blue gaze,
The color,
Hidden by the ash of dreams that burned out
The life,
Smothered by the burnished steel sky
Rises
In tiny rebellion.
Her breath blows away the nightmares
That dance
In crevices of crumbling buildings.
When she smiles,
The dreary sky
Breaks into a tentative grin.
The Daughter dances:
And the Mother flickers to life.