She had no time,
That frontier woman,
For much of anything but
Dawn-to-dusk work.......

There was bread to bake and 
Clothing to mend and
Children to raise and
No time for nonsense but........

Sometimes, when the moon was full
And her man was sleeping by her side,
Her heart slipped out
That crude wooden door and
Went 
Tumbleweed dancing....

Just a slight figure of
Silver and calico,
Pinwheeling and graceful,
Pirouetting in
The dark of night remembering
The giggling girl she was......yes, 
Sometimes
She went
Tumbleweed dancing, 
Her spirit twirling and
Footloose as the 
Prairie wind that
Sometimes howled in winter and
Made her solitary soul cry............

She had no time, in her
Workaday world
For anything other than
Her God-given responsibilities.......

But deep in the darkness
That gingham goddess was
Nimble and sure and
Free as the sun and the 
Sonora ponies that
Pranced through the canyons.......
Tumbleweed dancing,
In her heart, in her heart....
Tumbleweed dancing.

©~Marcia Wickes