She throws on a magical thing,
her botanical white and green floral silk skirt.
It shimmies in the soft spring breeze on her carefree frame
like a 1920s jazz dancer. Easy on the eyes,
composed and portrait worthy, the delicate beauty stuns.
A slow waltz commences and she lightheartedly slips
into her green dotted tulle and twirls and whirls.
Kicking up her heels, she yields to the hot-headed sun
as he leads her into an earthy tango punctuated with staccatos.
They glide through the lazy days of summer, cheek-to-cheek.
As the nights turn cold, she dons her final manifestation,
a golden-threaded brocade, a patinated riot of twilight hues.
She advances into her own distinctive tap, its percussion,
flutters of palpitations pulsating into the dark earth.
Sanctioned by Nature, she assents to fall, slows into a lento for release.
Her contribution to the natural world comes to fruition.
She braces herself for winter in a solid fifth position.
———————————————————————–Diane Landy © October 2013