Standing in attitude mode

on the head of a pin,

time speeds up as it stills,

seconds pass like decades,

handshakes become relationships,

a blade of grass, a lawn,

the lawn framing the reflecting pool

at the Taj Mahal.


Balanced between breaths,

a wink is antiquity revealed,

a taste, its history, its future,

oysters sliding down the tongue,

sex at the beach,

kissing salt clavicles after a swim.

Pirouettes twirl lifetimes –

tears, storms of warmth and grace.


Flexed and grand-pliéd,

grounded to center,

to now, the present, the instant,

the arrow that splits the arrow,

the moment of epiphany,

at Cana in public

water not turned to wine,

the water was the wine.


5 replies on “Pointe”

Hi Craig

This is a beautiful poem dealing with that point/pointe in time when she stands on her toes and spins us through the past and into the present. It is a time when we pivot in our lives both toward a necessary change in routine and toward a collaged look at our past. At those intimate and memorable moments. Now , it seems is the apex, the time when we must dance for survival and yes, when the water is lacking , “the wine becomes the water, and we drink to cope, to forget, to calm down and revise.

Thank you for sharing this,
my best



This poem commands my full attention from the first line on.

“Standing in attitude mode

on the head of a pin,”

That stops the world and takes total control. One of the very
best first lines that has ever captured me. I did not expect
the first miracle… but I love how you reached it with such



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