They lived a merry-go-round life senses dulled by blurred vision. Maniacal calliope music, mired in manufactured grooves.
She rode the blue horse its mane gilded in gold. hands cold on metal pole, forever spinning ahead.
He rode two steeds behind, eyes wild with lust chasing her round and round, never gaining ground.
Desperately out of synch his up to her down so close, but always out of reach. Gold ring dangling in neon lights they rode on and on and on.
Rewritten from a poem I penned in 2016. Shared at dVerse OLN LIVE, the virtual pub for poets around the globe, today, Saturday January 21st.
Come join us LIVE from 10 to 11 AM EST, Saturday, January 21st. Read a poem of your choosing aloud, or just come to watch and listen. We’re a very friendly bunch! Click join us…you’ll find the link for Saturday’s LIVE session here!
How many times around life’s stationary wheel? Eight times ten, nine times ten? Apex reached at twenty-five or fifty? Maybe thirty and three-quarters? Down cycle begins later, much later, or maybe it did? Back then. There should be a view from the top, everything spread out in miniature but recognizable. Broken fulcrum invevitable, timed entrance tickets do end. Others clamor to get on, their turn. What’s that saying? We’re just along for the ride.
“As I left China farther and farther behind, I looked out of the window and saw a great universe beyond the plane’s silver wing. I took one more glance over my past life, then turned to the future. I was eager to embrace the world.” Wild Swans, Jung Chang
Youth and middle age.
I am far past those lanes,
beyond that curve in the road.
Photos framed on shelves.
Who I was and who I loved
all along the way.
Mirrored image returns my gaze.
Silver haired and wizened,
in this, my final season.
No turning back.
Winter’s snow always glistens
even in the setting sun.
I shall embrace this scene.
This my new world forever,
as ever I shall be.
Mish is hosting Tuesday’s Poetics at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. She asks us to choose a book near us (or from a link she provides) and look to the last lines at the end of the book….and then let those be our poetic muse for our post today! Thus the last lines to Wild Swans, included before my poem.
Photo from our trip to Norway a few years ago.