Created | Updated Sep 14, 2005
If it can break the bonds
it'll dance.
Bare toed to the skirl of a storm it will dance.
It'll dance the buzzard's keening;
the wind in the marram,
the water splintering
on the granite rock.
'Til the pain of not dancing
bleeds out on the sand
it'll dance the steps its feet will know
if it can let go.
If it doesn't fall,
trip and fall,
miss its footing
and fall.
A3679626
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