Late at night, the flames roared high,
As I approached, I saw the boy,
Spinning, stopping, waiting,
Hands up high, spinning again.
Slow approach as I watch him,
Knowing he will stop when I am spotted.
Again, he moves around the fire,
Spinning, unselfconscious,
Smile visible in the shadows.
At last, I give myself away,
And the wild dancer emerges
As my son.
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