Poem of the Month: August 2012

Pasted Graphic


These are not safe forests
for us to dance in,
where beasts circle us,
eyes like orange lamps,
and teeth are bared,
and these creatures of nightmare,
whose glances burn our skin,
in a loathing lust for
our soft-muscled limbs
and our smooth faces,
need us to be like them,
heavy with appetites
slaked in hate and shadow,

We are more subtle,
walking gracefully
in sun or moonlit clearings,
laughing together,
sharing our love freely.
You may have seen us in statue
or on painted fresco,
our hair bound up in coils,
our torsos bare.
But we live among you
mostly invisible,
though sometimes pulled
by the sun and moon,
to dance before you.

We have always been here,
you might have sensed us
in the streets and squares of cities,
wearing the ugly clothes
of whatever time.
You might have smelled
on us the rare and precious scents
of mountain glade and forest.
We are not arrogant,
just different
So if sometimes we are called
to dance to ancient music,
please allow us.

Pasted Graphic