NaPro Day 12

The Dancer on the Road

A swish in riposte

Beneath the old lamppost

The dancer on the line,

En point and in time.

She is all grace,

Safe from the chase.

Beneath the Hunters moon

In lonely nights immune

To the cold touch of death

Soft as a baby’s breath

Dancing in the shadows

Lost in repose.

What gives the shiver outermost?

From innermost, the ghost.

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