Fragile hands,
Weathered and cracked,
Grasping onto the neck of the swan
They are tough,
Yet, all the while, their reach is gentle,
And they glide with the swan to the pond’s lively middle

Up

Up they go

   Ricocheting off the dancing beads of
      water
    
       doing the tango,
          
         the salsa,

            and, at last,

               ballroom.