Butoh Dance   The music haunted me — it haunts me still — that solo violin, untethered ghost of some other world on some other hilltop.   Gradually the dancer appeared, mostly naked, stripped for sacrifice, for pain, for feline intent. What was I supposed   to think when his eyes rolled back, windowpanes — was he witnessing a battle of wills in heaven or just gazing at his brain?                                                            for Ledoh Basaing     © Michael Fleming Brattleboro, Vermont December 2020