Dolls on a Shelf

Crisply costumed in stripes, pleats,
the froth of tulle flaring
above the flamenco dancer's feet,
hair pulled tight in buns and plaits
tiny feet balancing on the shelf,
staring through glass, their fate
to be hemmed and chased by neighbours
like the jigsaw of their homeland,
the Greek soldier, my favourite,
white stockings the same hue
as his uniform, black pompoms
softening and hiding his shoes.
When I turn away, his rifle's rat-tat-tat
the signal for wild dancing, twirl,
stamp, feet tap, castanet clack.