Friday, June 29, 2007

"Twisted Carousel"

Children come here on afternoons
Wooden horses with sardonic faces
Often mistaken for another emotion
On the merry go round that embraces
The calliope plays its mellow tune
Birds in trees are catatonic
Tranquilized from people's lies
The laughter of children being mnemonic
For dreams that have passed
Unto hands clenched on rails
From the fringes of the girth
A memory which fails
Mad horses on poles encircle
Margins of this accepted folly
Rain washes away the demons
All that remains is the melancholy
Of wooden horses with eyes affixed
On no particular thing
Catatonic birds look on
Never fluttering a wing

© 2007 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved

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