I watched the dancer spiral,
And before the curtain fell,
She caught my eye with one swift glance,
As swift as the tips of her toes:
I saw her lifetime flash in that glance,
The pain of practice, practice, practice,
Her love for the music and the art of the pose,
The motions, fluid, yet lonely,
That she struck with such precision.
And when the curtain fell,
I rose from my seat, smoothed my coattails in place,
And wiped away a tear.
