Moon Dance

The night we danced so wildly,
pirouettes around the room.
The hyenas laughed unsightly,
in the light of the full moon.

Our fires burned so brightly,
you would think that it was noon.
But the contrasts cut so sharply,
they faded in the gloom.

We spun a web like spiral,
and sang an Elvis tune.
The banshees were in full chorus,
the dawn, it came, too soon.

The tides tugged at our senses,
and threw us into a swoon.
The dervishes were delighted,
and the trees begin to prune.

At the peak of menstrual cycle,
the chorus came to croon.
And the old hags stirred the pot,
to the glory of the moon.

It all came too soon.
Night became noon.
To the tune of an old rune,
the sun climaxed the moon.

And we were doom.

1978 photograph by Mark Gee

From a video © Mark Gee
Full Moon Silhouettes

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