Picking my daughter up from ballet class during the McMurray winter...
Waiting by Doors
Ballet class over
the young girl
waited at the doorway.
Her long graceful neck
bent over a fantasy novel
of dragons breathing fire
on a brave knight.
Outside it was minus 25.
Her Dad arrived
late again.
She looked up with a coy smile
recognizing the dirty Cavalier
with the cracked windshield.
They talked of dance, school and fantasy
as they drove home
for dinner.
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