top of page


She knew instantly who she was when she fluttered across her mind Saturday morning before dawn.

Strong and graceful.

Cautious, yet unafraid.

Without hesitation, she recognized her as herself.

Before me, she smiled.

Eager and free.

She spun and twirled in her dance.

Yes, it’s you. I see.

You left me, said she.

Where did you go?

I am here.

But I am weak.

We can be together still, and reel in the moonlight!

I can not.

She settled in a spot and raised her eyes to mine.

But you see me.

Through the pain, you will see me again and again.

And again.

Her glad face

Her hopeful face was breaking near the edge of daylight.

Her fingertips crumbling

Almost out of sight.

Don’t let go, we cried!

Dance with me, said she and twinkled away into morning.

Tears, she opened her eyes.

For all the years of lies and quick goodbye and broken ties and unspoken whys.

Her toes tingled.

Her hands were numb.

Her body longed for healing

And peace.

I can not, she cried!

I can not


Sunday, in the twilight, she knew.

And she waited.

Dance with me? said she.


Azenia is a retired teacher, managing a sweet treats catering business ("Three Sisters Southern Sweets") and working on an Advanced Degree in Creative Writing.


Recent Posts

See All



bottom of page