Dubravka loved her childhood but was broken hearted,
When she had to leave Croatia as the fighting started .
In the morning she would dance the waltz in a bright red hat.
The only company she had was little Macka her tawny cat.
At lunch she would dance the “kolo” a traditional Croatian dance,
Although her aching joints made it difficult to prance.
Macka would smile at her every day and sip cream from a ballet shoe.
Her memories of dancing ballet had moved from her mind to her heart.
At night she would try to perform the “pas de bouree” and fail,
Falling gently into her bed and cry herself to sleep.
But asleep she would dance ”Swan Lake” to clapping as loud as hail.
And drown in flowers that made her weep.
Her fingers were wrinkled and found it difficult to hold a plate.
But her heart sometimes woke her early it couldn’t wait,
To dance in the kitchen on a sunny afternoon.
And push away the darkness that had come far too soon.