ART IN MOTION Kaleena Cote condensation drops slip slide the cubes of ice, they clink inside my fingers trace and lines collide art in motion, never dry cotton tufts, they float with ease shapes shifting above as they please accommodating to the breeze art in motion, in the sky leafy limbs, they stretch and sway like wind chimes on a windy day they poke and prod and tease and play art in motion, tangled high the phone rings as if on key i hear your voice, it comforts me our words dance circles, so gently art in motion, you and i