“Bush Dance”
playing aloud;
not knowing Portuguese
I am at a loss
for what’s being sung
just rhythm
furiously swiping
through the air
text misunderstood
but the brain
makes adjustments
to enjoy what
is being heard
human voice becoming
a musical instrument
so poetry,
too,
can rise
from the ashes
of burnt hope
& ambition
can be rewarded
every once in awhile