Knuckle to knuckle she stands
Fists pressed against each other,
Elbows digging into her sides –
A bundle of nerves, as she twists around her waist.
She shrugs her shoulders, wrings her arms –
Trying to lose the butterflies.
She stares intently, at that which only she can see.
She inhales deeply as it dawns on her,
That all the time she toiled away,
Has condensed into this solitary moment.
As the spotlight shines, she must be sublime. Continue reading “The Gymnast”
