Dressed in white, red, blue and … on.
Dancing across the garden, supping as they went.
In waves, one week then two, they filled the air.
Some said it was an accident of the wind they came.
There was no food where they go. A terrible waste.
I saw a dusting of the world by the magical, celebration earth.
It was east they danced and whirled, to the mystery.
Not west to the mapped mechanical.
There’s a world of difference.
Inside, that inner sense.
Of significance …
© Mark Berkery ……. Click on those pictures for a closer look