At first it was a lark
as we clasped hands
to see if our gathering
would stretch around the
huge gravel driveway.
The call went out for more
to join our circle,
and we grew from within
snaking our way around.
We were stretched to the limits
at only three-quarters full
when the long-bearded elder
began to pull us down the path
into the center of the grounds.
We could se the rest of the line
through the trees that lined
the field in the center;
and we passed them as they followed us
spiraling around and inwards-
lying one layer outside the next-
until the entire chain moved within
the center of the trees.
When the elder
met the maypole that marked middle
he turned back
and followed the path between
the lines of the spiral-
drawing us back out again-
this time facing those moving in.
We passed and greeted every other one
in that line
laughing at the surprise of it-
and every long beard of the men
was hung from a grin-
and every laughing maiden-
their skirts picking up the dew
from the morning grass-
hummed under the brisk bright sky.
The children laughed at their elders
for discovering so simple a game,
and they skipped along, not minding
the pull of longer legs--
As we were all pulled in and through
and out around and back again-
dizzy with the movement and the joy
of following one another.
September28, 1995
Heather Shaw
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