I will die in Kentucky on a rainy day in spring
perhaps on a Thursday as today is a Thursday
and I’m pondering continuing Pilates
where I resist the Nazi rigidness
though I long for strength as my body enters
elder status. I long to nurture the tautness
of youth, the resilience of a dancer.
You know it was the Russians who perfected
ballet– classical music and repetition and turn
after twirl after turn. They were escaping
their Dr. Zhivago winters with only a fireplace
for warmth and so they had to spiral and spring
and create long strong muscles to ignite the heat
required for life, survival.
Beautiful! Especially the ending … “strong muscles to ignite the heat”…
Thanks Geri You’re the first to see this hot off the press effort
Oh, such imagery, and cadence. The words sank in quickly and quietly. Poignant, at least for me, but maybe I’m nearing that “status” where I can understand. Thanks for sharing.
Thanks for your kind words. Cadence is something that I haven’t paid enough attention to. Thanks for noticing
You had me from that arresting first line–“I will die in Kentucky on a rainy day in spring”–and the poem is stirring.
I love the imagery, the rhythm, the sway and Russian feel of the last stanza. I understand why you used the dash but I wanted some thing different there. What could it be? I totally understand the feeling of the first and yearn for more strength each day. Difficult to give that up, no matter what our nerves and muscles say to us—one of us should put that in a poem. Yours above is a mighty poem!
Thanks Bev We have a common connection with Russia