Tuesday, August 23, 2011

A poetic beginning

I have been holding onto an image for quite some time,
hoping that it would sprout into a poem, but it still lies
quiet, waiting for the right moment to germinate.

Arabesques of steam rise from the hot water,
like the flamenco dancer's spinning hand, effortless
to the music, beyond bodily limitations, listening
to the rhythm.

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