Sun Dance
he intends to drink a lot and dance his dance a sun dance in among the maple's five lobed leaves and arms outstretched swaying like a high tree balanced by a bottle slowly he and we will laugh as he set his children dancing on the mangey woodland floor and debris from the deceased fire cast dancing children shaddows on the weedy grass below for here we go if he or i have cares it is not much about a space we have that place, that freedom in our hair and in our head and rays and time pass through as the sun through tireless leaves my image as but transitive and furtive a ghostal fugitive from town to village roaming he came to rest not in a shallow woodland grave a hollowed out but by a clock tower and a semicircular roof extension approximate to the hamlets only church whence we were ushered in to meet St Peter an man of wood but glossy, static and italic leaning leaning down the mayor decreed that we would be kept and cleaned and proper fed within indulgent homes we would find encaged sceptics who thought that drifting slowly through the urban roads are thieves and travellers here today but surely gone tomorrow by the casting of the bell that powered the few disheveled houses we were led among the children some antagoni violent bullys others laughed and played with friends forever young in the hired school room once a smithy set up of an old five, long-benches indented with the carved intentions of the names of who knows where bored kids like me or tireless babbling ones alike the streams of winter O St Peter ... make them freeze right over when out collecting wood one fine green day deep alone within the forest clearing there i saw him and dance his dance swaying high up in the branches a living god among the angel leaves of paradise and so i danced the self same sun dance as i sang its throat a lost and lissom song i knew that i must be on a travelling way though i couldnt say for sure i knew him he is yet a playing in my home the ever changing house of blood and bone as on i walk a swaying to the tune that lit the fire that as elemental children round we danced a roses in a ring and therefore so has time passed through the woodland yet but for the seasons how it barely changes
Mike Burr appears coutesy of Mike Burr ,