Wheel

I do not want to write poems

Like you did.  Alas – I could not carry

Your axe, the small box

In which you kept sunlight,

Wild, incontrollable

It’s true –

Your mind worked like a runaway

Ferris wheel.  The amusement park

Closed for the season.  It’s night.

What’s running the wheel?

One of the cars has stalled at the top –

Gently swinging –

It’s filled with Halloween masks,

Now blowing away through

The winds of your eyes.

Werewolves!  Fairy Princesses!

Gorillas!  Clowns!

The invisible man!

You mind was your mind –

My mind is my mind –

No matter what blossoms

Drift as we dream it

I do not wish to follow those footsteps,

Burned by the wind –

I only want to make the mistakes

I thought you would have made

Had the wheel spun on –

Surely there is enough light there

To last one more lifetime –

And thus carry you forward

To the ends of the night,

Where the morning star asks

What you’re carrying