Dancer on the Stage, Dancer on my page by Carl Teegerstrom

Dancer on the Stage, Dancer on my page

My pencil glides with her skirt’s flowing lines,

gently sketching subtle designs,

then it pirouettes on its sharp toe,

shading her susurrating shadows,

while the paper trembles at each stroke,

like the brown, windblown leaves of an old oak.

The dancer leaps across that stage

while my heavy hand vaults across my page,

as I rush to capture her dark hair

thrown through the air.

I pause to see the dancer on the stage

captured on my page,

but to my surprise the dancer on my page

was not the dancer on the stage

she was new with clumsy steps, out of place,

and a smile bent into an odd grimace.

I frowned at the uncanny image

and her disproportioned visage

but then I saw her dark eyes brightly shining

and her steps proudly flying,

and I realize my drawing was not the dancer on the stage,

but the a child of my mind given shadow and shape on the blank page.

I was and am proud of her

and will forever treasure

the chance

I had to set her on her dance

through my bent and dusty sketch book

and I hope one day someone will look

to see this child of mine living with a vivacity

that is all too often absent in me.