For Degas

The dance, slowly blending into shadow,
Graceful arms that halo the sun,
The moon shines in corners
In dreams of young dancers.
Reposed upon wooden stair,
Waiting for the entrance,
The auditorium to still.
The start of the grand waltz.

@AnnWJWhite, copyrite 2017

Why Not? When Someone Asks Why?

Why not feel good?
Good is full of opportunities
Aches and pains can’t hold
In the face of something to do
Something to think about
Something to lose yourself in
Something to meditate with,

No, feeling good is a state of mind
Over body
Over disagreements
Over insurance
Over money
Over grumpy old men and women

Just a foot into the cheerful
Just an inch into the hope
Just a meter into a nap
With warm toast and a drink
A show to laugh at
A game to win.

My son gave me a Harper’s hero cap.
A donation to children
Who don’t get to play
Who have blinders on their futures.
He hopes to change that
To give them a place to be happy kids.
He knows he’s blessed
With so much energy and life.

My son said if Harper met
Me, he would be inspired
That I haven’t quit,
That my tears are reserved
For other times and other ways.
He thinks I am a hero,
But I am not.

I’m a woman who knows
That nothing is over
Until we take that last breath
And I won’t take that last breath
Until I have finished my book,
My stitching,
My dreaming,
My Century of life lived well.