A Rite Of Spring Poem by Stephen Brian Brady

morning at the village cafe bar
the 'corps de ballet' sure they know the score
ignore the count and markings on the floor

a shadow plunges from the wall
no pause in conversations at it's fall

across the forest-clearing
the peasantry are there
spinning round on counter-stools
with garlands in their hair

a swan beats at the window with it's wings
and infants in their push-chairs unrestrained
just kick their legs and sing