My Vagabond Life

The wind was
like whited knife.
It seized my
homeless vagabond life.

The fire was more significant.
Less was shelter.
I was desperate,
seeking helter-skelter.

All at once, I found log fire,
surrounded by tribal woman band.
Scores of them were dancing,
tied their hands like flowery band.

I was fascinated.
My steps were hasty.
I found fire, rhythmic dance,
recess from nature's enmity.

Their waists were swaying
With the rhythm of band.
Their lofty brests were tossing.
I wondered, what more could I demand!

The glow of the fire
glorified their faces
and my mind was
dancing with excess.