Friday, October 13, 2006

POEM - Isadora Duncan As A Down's Syndrome Child

You are this Isadora Duncan to a
Bleating over-caffeinated expresso
Machine – laughing like holiday cellophane
Dishing wordy smiles and festive eyes that have
Drunk whole white-capped oceans: a blue suggesting
No limits. So worldly in an “own world” way.
The music is yours alone, tones I cannot
Hear – outside my frequency - it makes me love
You so hard and without fatigue. Quick step, hop,
Skip, step again; swing jangling arms and legs
Until at last you go to sleep, where I place
My head next to yours and I fill your ears with
Kisses. Then you and I are healed here. We both dance,
Clasp arms, and feel the impulse that some people
Call joy, but what we simply call “each other”

M C Biegner


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