my candied apple ferris shears the sky
and people from the ground shout you
are up too high
but angels hoist the wheel behind
a bright pink cloud that blinds
the crowds forever discontented
and, at a moment's notice-
with any happiness you've found
even this snow cone fleeting.
fleeting is the Fair, the ferris wheel.
all caramel.
but I am twinkling still, so there.
mary angela douglas 8 september 2013
No comments:
Post a Comment