he loved to dance
his bear his wolf his
walking man
feet pounding red red road
for all he’s worth
his cries rang out to
Spirit
born of man and woman he
craved the dancing path
to Light
his anguish translated
made us laugh
his body honed to hardness
his wit like sword that
always cut through bullshit
his Magic
O, his Magic!
mystified across the veil
between the worlds
he brought us the unknown
with laughter and with songs
he loved to dance
his snake his eagle his
walking man
he pounded earth as if on oaken
door
begging entrance to the
deep
dark caverns we never knew
existed, only he
he loved to dance
his dew-tipped grasses his
clacking leaves his walking man
he cried of love and loss
the way that all clowns do
through their great pain
and sorrow
he surrendered to the
Dance and then
this
walking man
walked on
photo: Brenton Salo
What wonder woven with words
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