TRADITION

Whatever yours is dance to it,

let it sink back

on the amazement of the track,

spreading its stance

in a dance to enhance

the eyes of the land.

Very privately

I am now celebrating my own,

very alone.

In my own den,

sitting still

and letting myself

dance

in my bones.

Listening to an old tune,

time past

“pointing to one end…”

 

I will pass,

a mood, a nod in whatever tune.

The stream will stay.