Saturday, April 18, 2009

Great Saturday - so busy - short now because Bob is here and falling asleep. Just goiong to post poem. Promt was "an interaction" and I grabbed mind out of this weekend, taking K.K> to watch Ian dance.

Let Go Of Her?

You are going to have to let go
of her, I said. The cab won't wait.
He held on just a second more, still
in stage makeup and Oberon tights,
she in her best dress with turquoise
jewelry I made for her, and her mother's
kitten heels, hair brushed down her back.
So young, just friends, they say, taken
ballet together since he was eight and
she was five, eight years growing up
watching, listening, helping, supporting.
She surprised him after the show, his
first real lead, top billing. He didn't know
she'd come and of course she spent all
week planning outfit and transportation.
He grabbed her hard, grinned, even asked
his mom to snap a picture. He hates
being photographed. She leaned in close,
beamed, glowed. You are going to have
to let go of her, I said. Maybe not.

5 comments:

Mary said...

This is a beautiful and touching poem. And...one wonders...maybe not!

Diane T said...

This poem gives me chills, Victoria. Beautiful and poignant.

Peggy said...

I loved this the first time i read it and love it again here. There is something so sincere about a young love/affection like this. You have been posting lost of wonderful poetry and I have gotten behind in reading but still enjoying every one.

Lynne said...

I was about to say you ought to write a story about this, Victoria, but then I realized that KK is writing her own story as she goes along in her adventure to womanhood. Lovely and delightful poem.
Lynne

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