A Ballet Month in Taos
Toe shoes wear down quickly,
but not blisters. My feet fly where
pain canít follow, where school and
sisters and parents canít follow.
I miss my kittens, but Taos
knows how to fly. The mornings
shine like no sun. The air burns
me free and my feet donít
touch the floor for hours.
These are my people, one by
one, they complete me. I know I am
my self, alive and breathing free.
At night the cool air lifts
me home and I have grown.