Images flicker in the mirror
Legs unfold together, as one
Arms float on billowy clouds,
No one is there to point, to murmur, see her?
Pointe shoes clatter on the floor,
Hairpins fly from tightly wound hair,
In unison the dancers soar
And hit the floor again.
Over the sounds of running feet,
A voice corrects, criticizes,
Your arms! Stay with the beat!
Here, in the classroom, imperfection reigns
The dance is not yet learned,
Mistakes made in abundance,
The movements not yet polished
And yet they are still beautiful.
Photo made available by Lauren Helmer
The Mews 
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