Poetry
Charley Allen
Choong Moo
Her body is an instrument
ancient in design and form.
Muscles ripple
with wisdom eons
old and passed down
generations. Carried down
dirt roads, across
oceans wide and
unforgiving.
Movements honed
slow, precise. Sweat
trickles down her brow,
cheeks red with color--
she screams
words in a language
I do not recognize.
