Oooh, I love this poem.
laurelsofrain
Everyone gives her a wide berth
as she rocks and undulates;
manifesting lovers or sinking
into the underworld, channeling
–
The bass-line; or flaring into a nebula,
under a creaking pomegranate tree;
in the cloistered courtyard of her mind
-Pleased by its sun dappled trunk
–
Darting lizards like to climb
and boughs laid low with swollen fruit.
She dances in blue muslin veils
lifting her arms, eyes closed
–
To look within or maybe it is true
and she can’t see what’s really going on,
or too far gone to care – There’s always
one, at the edge of a festival.
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