Bamboo Dance
Back to the clacking of bamboo skins lime
which eagerly touch on each other in time
Rhythm of movement in bending and bough
with a dip, and a kiss melting into the ground
Clipping sky whistles to bolster the wind
as the hollow tube dancers engage and begin
with leaves meeting leaves in a tangle of air
in a hush, in a rush of the orient's flair
Subtlety sisters in artistry's freeze
knocking the human heart, slamming it's knees
Rustle of apple lips kiss in the leaves
in the top of the bamboo's ancestral trees.
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