Torch Dance  

I knew a girl who used to douse herself in kerosene
She denied feeling any pain
As the match released the flame

She dances
Torches spinning higher
Hypnotic in the night

While a young man
Crazed by moonlight
Plays the jimbe in time

In this place where the sea meets the shore
Illuminated by the light of city streets

We huddle around her
She twists and turns in defiance
As moonlight pours like an offering
Over her singed frame

The gentle flower child shakes
Beneath the many eyes
That question and question
And look on her with admiration

The mournful dancer
Looks out toward the sea
Waiting… waiting
Waiting for freedom to
Find her

© 2006 Margaret Haugen