Dance: A Poem

0
393

by Sara Fike

 

Everyone holds the tools in their life to create something beautiful.

A paintbrush on canvas,

A pencil on paper,

Or, perhaps, a bow on strings.

My tool, however, is not something extra.

It is not an extension of myself,

I am my own tool.

I am the paintbrush, creating paintings on the floor.

I am the pencil, creating meaning through movements in the air.

I am the instrument, creating music for the eyes.

I am a dancer.

~S.C.F.

SHARE
Previous articleJames the Mormon Concert
Next articleBe the fear-deceiving bird
Articles submitted by students you know at Westlake High.