We start slow
Let the fire burn low
As the shadows grow
by Moon Mother’s glow
Wait
Lick the grease from our fingers
Breathe the smoke in that lingers
Wait
Test the ground with our feet
Wait for the beat
The thrum
Feel the life in the peat
The hum
We drum
We dance
fling the embers as we spin
a trance
there’s heat on our skin
a chance
to feel the fire burn within
and now we’re striped with sweat and dust
we’re dripping
with the scent of musk
heady incense
burning lust
and we are bound
to the sound
of the beat
that we found
at the hearth at the heart of the world
Claire Shaw is an emerging UK-born poet and author whose work has appeared in publications including Black Hare Press, The Dawntreader, Silkworm and Grimsy. She currently resides in The Netherlands with her husband and two cats and works in Digital Marketing. She loves to travel, practice her photography, and read like it’s going out of fashion.
Foxglove Journal 