by Joseph Hesch
The dancers I’ve known
hardly ever showed much joy,
except while moving to the music.
It seemed to soften the diamond
hardness of their bodies and faces,
like they were appearing on Degas' stage,
all shadows and smeared pastel smiles.
But, when the music stopped,
and you saw them on the street
away from their cosmetic camouflage,
their armor of knits and tulle,
and their funneled electric suns,
you understood who they really were—
heroically tiny, ambivalently starving,
radiantly tired, and gloriously pained girls,
in conflicted relationships
with their art.
A new poet, Joe Hesch's career as a writer spans more than 30 years in journalism and public affairs in upstate New York.
He resides near his hometown of Albany, New York, a 350-year old city from which he draws much of his inspiration.
His poems have appeared in publications such as Boston Literary Magazine, Wanderings Magazine, and Falling Star Magazine.
Pieces Inspired by this Image
'If Duncan Had Daughters'
'When Elements Collide'
'These Are Different Fates'
'The Yearning of the Lighthouse Fairies'
'To Keep the World Turning'