Percussive

Acolyte of mountains
she learned much from their strength,
the way their height
looms from unseen depth,
play of light and shade
on sloped canvas,
turnings of day
and season.
 
Today her feet thump
to pound a new staccato,
pushing against what is solid
with springtime agitation,
letting muscle and bone
sing a real song,
make uncomfortable music,
releasing what is here
to make new space.
 
Authentic,
this indoor pacing,
bare soles on different kinds of floor,
aimless and alert,
an unsoothed meditation,
percussive wandering.
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