Dancer

I’d expected the aching muscles

and the sore, deformed feet,

expected 

that the applause would numb them

and hide them away temporarily.

But the expectations 

of the well dressed and well connected

lurking in the back stage shadows

waiting

to transport dreaming feet into a nightmare.

They were unexpected.

They were the low points,

the bass line when the music played.

http://www.athinsliceofanxiety.com/2024/10/poetry-selections-from-lynn-white.html