Silver – stanza 23.2

“I have only just arrived,” replied Tasha
“I danced with her in Kiev,” said Courlain
“When was that?” Allison asked
“1904, I think it was,” said Tasha, smiling
At Courlain as she rekindled the memory
“But,” I said and then stopped, She was
An older woman, in her fifties, ancient
For a dancer, but not nearly old enough
Perhaps her grand parents danced in ‘04
But she never did, and Courlain in his thirties
Might have danced in 2004 but never that
Long ago – I hushed myself, deciding they
Were putting us on, having a laugh
Tasha began to describe a performance
Deep in the heart of a terrible Russian winter
Ice forming on the curtain and sets
A shimmer of reflective jewels shrouding
The precision performance of two youths
In their prime, moving strongly, deftly, delicately
A perfect moment captured in memories
Lost to everyone who wasn’t there, a myth
Passed from soul to soul, fading over time
“You two,” said Tasha warmly, taking our hands
“You will know the joy of sharing such an experience
Placing your hearts in each other’s strong hands
It is more than mere love, this sharing
In the act of creation, expressing between
You the feelings others dream but cannot know
For they lack the indomitable will of life

About Lord Malinov

Lord Malinov, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet
This entry was posted in books, fiction, literature, novels, personal, poetry, writing. Bookmark the permalink.

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