A/N: I was watching the dancers for Preliminary Championships in my class today, for the first time, doing their slip jigs. (For any non-Irish dancers out there, they were doing a specific kind of dance to a specific sort of music that I find very difficult and they’re very good at it.) I was struck absolutely speechless, and I wrote this, even though you can’t describe poetry with more poetry.

I cannot see
Her wings; but I am sure
They would be green; green like her
Shirt or the way everyone knows (thinks)
The fields of Ireland look.
I’ve never seen her dance before, not
All out and for real;
Just fiddling around and not
Really seriously like
It is now.
And I have no words,
No words at all
For moving poetry.