She dances careless and free.

Her face not hardened by years,

youth pours out of her.

Even the trees envy what they see.

She dances sharp and flawless.

Her face unreadable from the music,

youth halts when in her way.

Even the audience is in awe of her talent.

She dances limp and tatered.

Her face wrinkled with memories,

youth runs away from her.

Even her grandkids giggle at her.

She dances both lively and deadly.

Her fae decomposing 6 feet under,

youth knows nothing about her.

Even the souls in the cementary live to watch her.