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
You think it dusty from the surface?
Try here under the centuries, waiting,
Waiting for a moment when I return
Made from the elements you so insult
With filth and dusty growth.
Wait until I arise, here from the
Bench of waiting, competing, hiding.
I am dirt dignified, a dragon born.