She wears jeans with flowers and lace
and watches the fascinating games of men,
football, soccer, sundry other competitions.
She wants to write the ballad of too late,
where they strike iron when reality has cooled
way down and merely makes a sound
but not much difference, all the while knowing
that, though nobody looks, she is noticed.
Where can she go and dance on her own
instead of sitting with her legs crossed, waiting
for men to ask? It feels unreal. All she wants
to do is move. Instead, responsibilities keep
curling her way. Relentlessly. She smiles.
She behaves. She wonders about the purpose
of a green leaf in spring, and suspects
it all depends on who is telling the fairy tale.
To dance or not to dance, that is the question.
— BEATE SIGRIDDAUGHTER
Beate Sigriddaughter grew up in Nürnberg, Germany, and now lives and writes in Silver City, New Mexico (Land of Enchantment), where she has served as poet laureate. Recent book publications include a short story collection They Didn’t Know What to Say (2026) and poetry collections Circus Dancer (2025) and Wild Flowers (2022).