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Rain
Sweet is coming.
Bitter, too.
Adamant flowers
are coming.
Hands pushing on
doors are
coming.
Air I breathe
are coming.
Mud-soaked feet
are coming
and with them
ginger, wheat
and fly.
This blooming of
determination –
leaning in
without force
but with
certainty.
Four women in a
line, smelling –
ginger; swaying
wheat and breath
– like air and
mud. Each of
their faces
appear and
disappear.
Two women
together dance
this way
–
waiting and not
waiting. Rain is
coming. Strong
fists, too. Each
with open hands
behind her back
– arms stretched
and pushed back
with open palms.
See her
strong back and
strong arms?
She is
kneeling – arms
and open hands
stretched back.
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from A Lily Lilies Poems by Josey Foo, Notes on Dance by Leah Stein
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