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DANCING THE GRANDFATHER POEM The body I carry onstage is a poem
A poem stepping carefully through fallen shells shot glass and sniper fire
The body I carry dances its rhythms
The break of my knee the line of my arm the enjambment of shoulder and throat—
The body guards its secrets like a poem
The body teaches the wisdom of restraint
When no one is looking it can fling its arms open or hug itself, rocking
What it means is joy or pain, passages lost to words and finally unutterable
A panel of cloth surrounds the body
Skin is seamless and can sing
When I press my toes to the ground, vines clamber to safety over distant ravines
I touch the places of my birth I touch knowledge of danger and death, blood and milk flowering down summer’s open breasts
The body I carry is vessel and poem
In the beginning my hands scatter grain and gather fruit
In the end I walk along the water’s edge, following you
Following the trail of ashes home
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