Sinmora Dances
by Ari
Black
like a charred stick
coming up from the ash
only no stick could move so graceful
undulate like a flame
which always seems pulled upward
by its tip, by the air.
Arms pointed up, she dances
undulates hips, ripples body,
the center of the singing fire
surrounded by her stamping, clapping sons.
I see through eyes so watered by smoke
that in this vague vision
she seems an artist's stroke
on the palette of the flame.