Originally posted as part of the February 2009 issue.
Ars Poetica
we drum circles, streak the sky with
dye that scatters with the clouds,
the continuous rhythm
from the skins – a finger
taps a hand’s beat, a hand
taps the feet’s beat, feet
dance the shoes into the stars,
above the soil –
each drummer grasps another’s
beat, on time with the tide,
making the circle swirl
Comment [2]
way cool, jess
— Marie Meszaros · Feb 9, 12:59 PM · #
Welcome to the circle jerk. Good poem, Jessie. When can we read more?
— Jack Marshall · Feb 16, 11:18 AM · #