Dusk Dancer
A poem about the graceful, eternal dance of dusk and the cosmos
Early in the fall season, I started thinking of all the words associated with it: Dusk, moss, fog, moon… With that, a story began to form in my mind of who would be out so late at night to dance with the moon and then dissolve back into stardust. Thus, the Dusk Dancer was born. Enjoy her story!
How beautifully she slides
Across the marsh
Fireflies are her spotlight
The stars her audience
And her partner?
Oh, why, that’s the moon
With its ever-shifting phases and moves
One night, it’s fast-paced samba
The next a slow waltz
Always there
Always faithful
Until she turns back into stardust
Where she can dance her dance
For others to see
And join her
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Beautiful. 🤍