Poem: Of Fleeting Moments

She moved

with enthusiasm; style

and grace, in an effortless

fluidity with depth of involvement

that told the crowd that her craft

was true. Fingers make the sound

of cicadas. Cicadas dancing down

and around goat skin. He sat stoned

to stillness appreciating the dance. She

moved forward, rotated around him; formed well

when touching the outside of his body. Both …