Her Dance

The stage is empty. The floor is quiet as the dancer’s face her face the dream of the dry fountain she walks past in the morning. The fountain dances water with a tall laugh and in her dream she throws a coin into the pool. Wishes living at the bottom of the world where she throws another coin wish when the coin taps bottom she hears her shoes tap the floor of the stage. Each step walks her further out of her dream into her dream of dancing of wearing a black dress a white flower blooms a gardenia already she stamps the stage claps her hands applauds in time to the music a musician sits at a piano stares at the white keys the black keys hears unwritten music keep its secrets she listens until she is her own one woman circle she dances the smile she smiles when she sleeps.

Carol Ellis lives in Portland, Oregon. She has her Ph.D. in English from the University of Iowa. Her work can and will be found in ZYZZYVA, Comstock Review, The Cincinnati Review,and Black Heart. Her chapbook is called I Want A Job. She spent time in Cuba writing another poetry manuscript.