She winnows frantic
slides and soars,
giddy like a faint.
Ducks and bows,
shimmys like a feint.
She dances, why?
Wild and fun,
straight, striped
cutting arrow with
kissing whiskers, dart and flick.
Glides,
up like a knife,
rises water windstruck,
gutters like a kite.
Dips, nodding,
borne again, wobbles left,
wiggles right.
Jump-darts then
to her peeking hide.
Ian Barker
Poetry and prose
