Her hips move through space
like a pendulum turned on its side
weighted curves, arcing through air
to the rhythm of the clouds, trees, earth.

An old melody fades in and she travels back in time—
to jogs along East Rive Park,
and late night dart games,
and Grey’s Anatomy in too small city apartments.
A time when her hips were different:
body—a runner’s body
body—a dancer’s body

With each arc of her hip, she remembers all those years
in between then and now
leaning into the sweet, sweet breeze
she sees herself walking, running, dancing
through grad school, teaching, Nashville summers, Boston winters, and DC humidity.

It occurs to her,
these hips are special;
they brought her this far,
where else will they take her?


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