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Link Details for: | Feeling My Floor |
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| Link ID# | 96 |
| Link URL | http:// |
| Submited By | Lindsay Dent |
| Added On | Thu_Mar_25__2004 |
Description:
“Feeling My Floor” Chill of a November morning carries me inside to The empty studio bathed in butter-yellow light Cascading through slats on the worn wooden floor, Floor that reminds me of all the other hollow spaces Filled only with mirrors, bars, and me. Wooden floors are not easy to dance on They are fickle but constant like me, always changing, always morphing, Warping with age and use, and always remaining, always the staple, the same. Use, wear, rehearsal, gives life to otherwise ordinary Strips of pine. Connection of hard wood to bare soles, Trustworthy fallen trees that have laid themselves down for feet lacking surety. This wooden floor will not forsake me, no, not today, Not as slim pink ribbons cross and find their way to Wrap and frame trained ankles, not as worn satin that frays At the toe exposes a creamy canvas lining. The ugliness of my shoes does not bother me this morning The deterioration that spills unraveling and disconnected threads Onto this worn wooden floor allows me to feel it ever more closely, Feel its challenge as cracks and splinters threaten to snag Pirouettes and fouettes out from under me, even as I Feel its strength and reassurance that it remains. And so do I. |
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