Recital

White mousse grows in my hand... sticky, like a mother's love.

Miniature tutus that shine and itch...
eight all the same. Hair pieces
ceremoniously presented. Hold still
for lipstick. Backstage stories and snacks.
Third from the left. Blow a kiss.

Add water to the mousse. Blend in the palms of my hands.
Spread evenly to dampen all her hair.

Recital photos as yearly album markers.
Grandma comes to Texas. Eyes like
Aunt Eileen. Lilac and lace made
by hand. Now leading the babies.
Somewhere in Time, years pass.
Flipping pages... changing children.


Brush the hair away from her face. Form the pony tail into a bun. Cover with a net. Secure with pins. Not one
strand may stray.

Driving herself to class, rehearsal, class
rehearsal. Several costumes needed. Alter
body suits. Loosen elastic. Satin toe shoes.
Make-up in the mirror. Elegant opening poses.

Carefully shield her eyes. Apply finishing spray.



A glance at the program. Time for her solo.
Light accentuates her features. Translucence
reveals her form and grace. Liberating crescendos
engage the spirit. The interpretation... all her own.


c 2003 B Philp