THE DANCE
M. P. VINOD
They bear
beats wails
The dance begins
to end another
The juice stings
right on top
I dance
a mad dance
to the mad beat
of country drums
Cracks bursts glows
Strewn flowers
mark the way
A light moves
into darkness
I dance
A mad dance
till the flint
leaps up in flames
and feeds its bowels
and mine too.