A touch at the traveller's shoulder

A TOUCH AT THE TRAVELLER'S SHOULDER

Some nameless part of me
danced today
hung with ribbons - no mask
but a top hat blooming
barred pheasant tails;
blackened glaring face,
a clashing staff,
bloodshot miner's eyes
and stamping boots
chiming with cockleshells.

I can't hide from the goddess
- she's as deeply in me
as the whirling galaxy
or the labyrinths engraved
on my finger-ends.