[A poem about the "Petacloud", a kinetic sculpture installed in Terminal 4 of Changi Airport, Singapore.]
Shining triangles with their rounded corners,
skeletal hoops bent into uncircular shape.
A dozen of them, hanging loosely together,
they form a giant hollow metallic drape.
Glittering hoops of gold, they proudly dance,
a muted rhythm, silently but strong.
To a melody each golden hoop does prance,
guided not by music, nor by song,
Each hoop goes on a journey of its own,
a different way from any of its neighbours.
Yet all of them move together, not alone,
like a sleepy giant awaking from its slumber.
A "petacloud" it is called by its creator,
It floats around, slowly in the air,
deliberately gliding hither thither,
rising up here, settling over there.
The massive cloud, its shape gradually changes,
sometimes, for a moment it does pause.
It lumbers along, high in the air it dances,
as every hoop lends credence to its cause.
20191124
#Poetry
#PoetryByHaroldHuang
#Petaclouds
Dance of the Hoops
