in my dream fish are
catching flies with regularity.
they buzz and drink and gasp –
on tempo –
in counts of eight. 

I’m best with quartets.

ten-count
sheet music always threw me
for a loop. gripping the floor
with all four corners of
each foot, tottering toward
the outer edge and just
wishing, dreaming
my roots went deep. 

tip-toe tight rope, top up
drop down, arches straining –
stretching strong for just
a moment too long,
unnoticed and flat. 

movement, loose, bent,
release.