Music Box Dancer


She sits on the shelf
looking pretty ... ordinary.
Beauty must be hidden
beneath layers of life,
tucked away behind tired and lonely
and expectations spread thick
as icing on a cake
that hides the real thing
just pretty enough to make it
look presentable
to the public eye.

The cake is rotting
but it looks good.

The shelf is getting crowded 
with all the things meant to improve
the view
behind the plate glass window
as passers-by smile and nod
everything perfect,
everything lined up just so
all ducks in a row,
and the lace of her skirt gently sways
as she twirls a repeating path
to the music box tune.

The ducks are made of wood
but they look almost real

She sits on the shelf,
a porcelain doll dressed in 
hand woven lace
so beautiful it warrants showing off
but don’t touch
don’t even smile while you look 
and whatever you do
don’t say a word
in appreciation
this trinket is not for sale

Beneath the painted shell
the porcelain is cracked

She collects dust in her hair
and her tears go unseen
the shelf grows dark
as the light in the room
turns green
reflecting off the tiny bits of glass
that have fallen at her feet,
crystalline flake
remnants 
of her shattered heart

She sits on the shelf
looking pretty...


december 2007
Janet Reid




  
Awarded by Poetic Constellations ~ Cho




  
Awarded by Poetic Constellations