After A Dancing

About an hour ago to them
a dancing appeared.
It spunked and spun
and then flung, whirred
a top, laid stone stomp,
rippled it humming a full stop.

Then, a reverse hurdle —
both fell down.  Slumped
pile of seem, slipped
a noose of silent, some breathing,
a tad of stir.

It was the beam of
what’s after.  Binge
hearty, the long bodies
wrung out and still.
Dilated eye, ruddy
arm and flow underneath.
They were enough for
the night, and were done.