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After the Dance

by Kim Whysall-Hammond

We wade though the bright grass

Tired, footsore, happy

Hearing a bird calling by the reeds

Notes curling amongst themselves,

Spinning through the warm air

Distantly, traffic busies itself,

Here, tranquillity reigns,

After a full night dancing,

We walk.

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Saturday 27th May 2017 1:12 pm

dance   poetry

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