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by Gordon Edwards In the early evening rising to the bedroom, as the moon makes its entrance to the evening sky, will the ballerina ascend the stairs on tip toe? Will she pause on the landing before the tall window to turn and drink in the soft footlight of the lunar luminance as it pans from floor to body, revealing the tired dancer's legs that glow with the heat of rehearsal? Every prior moment wanes as steps cast in the shadow-- they sleep in these limber toes that will rise tomorrow on the evening's stage-- entering the story of this night. |
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Document last modified on: 12/31/2000