Again and again I pull the curtains back,
Step forward, curtsey, prance round the room.
My cousin at the table, trying to write,
Looks up and stares and then looks down again,
Acknowledging my childish fantasy.
How could he not be with me all the way?
The music swells. The morning dust is raised,
the sunlight from the window shimmers down
To make a spotlight.
My aunt comes in, I take another bow.
Surprised, I hear her say ‘I’ll take her now.’
My cousin nods. ‘Just get her out of here.’
I pick up shoes and socks and walk away
Trying to preserve the glamour of the day.