Will she dance now in slow unmeasured stepsacross the mirrored shimmer of the floorand, to music seeping from luxuriant decor,disclose in movement where her soul has creptto please an eye past peace, that never slept? She offers feathered throat to Father’s clawshe tastes the blood her father’s blood anointsIn this dream she learns the shadow … Continue reading Ming’s Father Dies; She Dances