My head slightly bent over a table of happiness.
My feet, sod with white lilacs, dance merrily
to a moon stroke music of twilight night.
My finger-tips childishly sip
the sweat of quill, like red wine of Mother Earth
that runs down the skin of my heart.
Down in the chores of primal things
I have been to the bowl aquarium, mostly at nights
where I breathed and twitched with the fish, trying
to catch the warm winks of stars. Ahh,
I know all about human arts, although I
dabble in the language of my adopted father; still
I know how to sketch
in my own words a lovely butterfly, fluttering
awhile in the night to say hello
and to kiss me,
ere on a fluffy pillow
I close my eyes. My name is nothing special,
but honestly I am what I am… a poetry dancer, dancing
with emotions for my fictitious lover.
Author’s note: I wrote it in response to “The Invitation to Write”, by Gather
Essentials: Writing Challenge, based on Carl Sandburg’s poem “Who Am I?”