I am a Carousel
Round and round she goes
where she stops nobody knows.
Children get on,
children get off.
Adults hold on tight
to horses and zebras,
as if afraid of falling.
I turn, ever turning,
the music jangles,
the lights blink on and off.
Day and night, I revolve
around the still point
that is my heart.
September 25, 2009
© Anne Westlund
Poetry by Anne Westlund
Read 746 times
Written on 2009-10-12 at 00:45
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