There is a spot in Boulevard Park famous
in the annals of American Modern Dance.
An overlook where Isadora Duncan would
mimic the movement of ripple and wave—
her sleek arms outstretched as sculpture
face lifted to a sky of purple gently
dropping its curtain on the vanishing day.

Every eventide like clockwork
passersby would see Isadora there—
her strong, lissome body silhouetted
against the amber flare glistening
on the swell and curl of the tide.
“What choreography of spirit!”
the people would remark, as the dancer
shaped her body into a hallowed pose.

Ordinary in other surroundings,
they became in these moments
beholders of liberation, honored guests.

Mesmerized by such grace, such gravitas,
they watched in awe the unfurling of her final dance
when the sheerbright scarf loosened from her neck
and swirled up into the wind
untangling amidst stars.
A lyric in motion, singing.

(c) 2013

Published by Marie Marchand

I write poetry to capture beauty in language and imagery in hopes of healing myself and the world. Poetry for me has always been a seeking. An effort to come closer to beauty, to explicate beauty, to behold it in words. I wish to formalize beauty, to give it a title and empower it to go forth into the world. I want to give it shape and lend it the capacity for remembrance. Poetry captures essence. Without essence, there is nothing worth saving. John Keats and William Wordsworth are my favorite poets. My absolute favorite poem to read aloud is Wordsworth's Lines, otherwise referred to as Tintern Abbey. And it must be read aloud at least annually for uplift of the soul. I have shared my poetry through various means including handmade chapbooks, readings, and publication. All the poetry posted on this site is written and copyrighted by me. This collection represents about half of my poetry.