Wednesday, July 16, 2008

  • this poem is so old, I don't remember writing it!

    Rubes Ride

    The mid-way beckons,
    unrestrained, irresistable,
    glitter bright and neon painted;

    I soar through the darkness
    without a net, whirl
    in ever widening circles;

    my head spins, but I hold fast
    to the sight of you
    just beyond the sideshow.

    Not once do you call my name,
    not once do you look my way,
    no games of chance for you,

    so sure that I will follow your lead     
    the second the lights go out.              
    And I always do.

    Little Creek, Delaware
    5/15/02

     

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