[Gail White]

PARTNERING

I love you as a ballerina's feet
cherish the floor they seem intent on leaving.
Arched like little wings, they poise or beat
the air, hovering, soaring, flashing, weaving
invisible lace. Her buoyant movements hide
the force that lifts or launches; no one sees
the impact when she lands. She seems to glide
above the floor like goose down in a breeze.

Yet she could neither leap nor twirl nor stand
without that solid surface's support,
and if it had no give, each time she'd land,
her joints would suffer and her tendons hurt --
the base on which she spins above the dust
as firm as love, as flexible as trust.