She entered with grace on a muddied field washed

With rain.

It was pouring, but she didn't mind, she was twisting

And turning,

Dancing in the rhythm of drumsticks, thunder and rain.

The drummer was holding his drum in his lap like

a greedy child that

Takes hold of a pie and

Never wants to let go.

An old man was playing guitar and bouncing his leg;

He too didn't mind the rain - it was pouring over his overcoat like dressing

Over a salad,

But the music has taken hold of his body and his soul and he was

Playing and strumming like it was a divine oath

That he must uphold.

And so she danced, wet and barefoot, arms raised, and happy;

With mud between her toes like a thick gravy, she felt like she was

Dancing on clouds.

And for a moment

She was.