stream of blades
like fish migrating
rushing dashing daggers
right through the trees
not striking a single one-
moving like rivers flowing
and rushing.
wary the crashing waves !
the innocence of this typhoon's cut !
but like fish, they join huddling in school.
the large mass of gentle dance slows,
and some dirks drift the way of its
wind; separating- but still apart of its beauty.