"The Dance" . . . for the girls.

The Dance

I watched my sister get ready for a dance last night,
It reminded me of many times before,
only I looked up then as make up was applied and hair was curled and set,
now I look down,
I watched as high heels were dug out of closets and lip gloss was glided on.
When did she get old enough to date?
When did I get too old for dances.
I picked up my daughter to keep her from crawling into the array of silk
and bulk of slips that swish and shimmer as my sister walked down the hall.
Glowing, she walks to the mirror once more to put her earrings in as the door bell rings.
The Prince of the evening has arrived to take our Cinderella away.
The walls flash white as pictures are taken before they head out the door.
Everyone smiles while flowers are exchanged and mother hurries over
to keep the young man from being poked by floral pins.
One last photo and they are out the door.
I pass my little squirmy one to Grandma as we look out the window.
They are off.
We all head into the kitchen and reminisce of past dances and princes over pizza,
each of us glad that our lives have moved past dance preparations,
but secretly looking forward to future ones with our daughters.