Lead Toe Stomp - Thursday Poem

Lead Toe Stomp

My father whistled
and danced about
with barefoot children
attached to his shoes.
Right to left
Left to right
he shuffled and thumped
over wooden floors,
barefoot children
attached to his shoes.
Wrapped to his knees
we giggled and jounced
to the lead toe stomp
my father whistled and danced.

Taking my lead from Kerrdelune, I am posting this for Poetry Thursday. Still feeling my way around this blogging thing...
This is a memory poem...standing on my father's shoes as he danced around the room...the thump and shuffle, face pressed against his knees...laughing... slipping off, stepping back up and shuffling off again...dancing, we called it.

Question

Don't know why....this poem has been running a loop through my head all morning...cantering along at a steady pace...

Question

Body my house
my horse my hound
what will I do
when you have fallen

Where will I sleep
How will I ride
What will I hunt

Where can I go
without my mount
all eager and quick
How will I know
in thicket ahead
is danger or treasure
when Body my good
bright dog is dead

How will it be
to lie in the sky
without roof or door
and wind for an eye

With cloud for shift
how will I hide?

May Swenson

Wild Soul

Wild Soul
If yours be a wild soul, come with mine
into the darkness to gather wood.
Set flame to twig, and twig to blaze,
stir reddened heart coals with the poking stick.
Stare down the flames, absorb the heat
wear ash and pungent smoke to sleep.

There are no stars
under ceilings and roofs.