carousel

All those voices,
sing a round,
a sing-songy round
in her head.
The gravitron refrains
of what is said
become lost
in a carnival of thoughts.

It's easy to get
turned about,
a whirling girl
with a sing-song
round in her head.
Looking over her
shoulder at those yesterdays,
the dancing colors,
wishes strung like bright bulbs,
they paraded past
so fast.
So fast.

And the future tilts
around in her head.
A carousel girl
spying her make-believe
rescue steed.

Her ticket to ride
lost amongst the
confetti.