To Dance, To Live

He had called, after ten years.
Frantically she searched,
for enchanting shoes, for they,
like he, were keys to happiness.

Found! Buried in past treasures,
lost hopes, perhaps and maybes.
Red silk pumps, glistening,
pulled her into memories.

Picking them up,
a tingle ran from hand to spine.
a smear of blood, from then
brought back horror to her mind.

It was her blood, dancing
hour after hour, past painful.
Each performance, must be worthy.
She smiles, in denial.

Beneath the crystal chandelier,
a look of pride, all for his doll.
His expressions, the key;
kept close, to operate her.

He arrived.
She said with conviction,
"I no longer break and tear",
lacing her pink soft ballet slippers.

Her legs and mind strong,
her heart; a warm red.


By Kathie Stehr