An angel slips away
back down to earth
to wear a bathing suit
on the first warm day in June.

Dancing effortlessly,
she twirls around
on a manicured lawn.

With closed eyes
she twists and swirls
turning toward the sun,
a living flower.

She barely touches the grass
as a Shi-Tzu scampers after her.

The Nutcracker suite
rings in her head
as she pirouettes
in the Waltz of the Flowers.

She soars like a Peregrine in flight.

Her hips sway,
filling her face with a crimson glow.

Musical energy vibrates in her soul
like a Maria Callas trill.

Routine traffic rides by.

Men behind the wheel
take their eyes off the road.