Submitted for dVerse Form for All: Prose/Poetry
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31 January 2014
New Moon Ritual at the House on the Hill
We are dancing in a circle on the grass. We are holding coloured scarves. 'Let the colours choose you,' our leader said as she passed the basket around. When the basket came to me, the golden one was on top. Our scarves are as large as tablecloths but fine and filmy, undulating in the evening air. We hold them by the top corners, letting the other edge fall and dangle. As we dance to the centre we flutter them up. As we dance to the rim we sweep them down to the ground. The night is still light when we begin. By the time we are finished, the dark has come. Over the starlit grass we inhale the scent of roses.