Mary Frederick Ahearn

First Dance

The baby, newly a toddler, turns toward the music, a flower to the sun. She moves to it and through it; no self-consciousness, doubt, or diffident reserve shadows her joy. This little one is free without knowing what freedom is and what it isn’t.

Remember, remember, Grandmother, if you can, how it was, how it felt – treasure this glimpse, see it shimmer in your soul.

Once you danced, in other times, other lives when a geiko’s subtle steps and shadows turned into a flamenco swirl and sizzle. The stage lit up the chorus line and finally, in the last act, the ballerina stance, the last lift. The curtain falls, time after time until another child begins the dance.

baby steps
before the incense
turns to ash
and innocence leaves her eyes
dance as a leaf in the wind

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About the Author 

Mary Frederick Ahearn lives in Pottstown, Pennsylvania. “Writing is a great joy to me, and with it, the interaction with wonderful poets from all over the world. Reading, photography, and being out in the natural world are delights and solace for this introverted soul.”