Chasing Dignity

Desire begs me to dance and I make excuses.
I am not young and beautiful.

I am an old woman, older than the vine, older than memory,
Older than the many paths I have taken. 

But the rose does not just climb, it twines sideways and upwards,
Commanding space.

I remind myself, age can be striking and beautiful
And it is not selfish to want to dance.