sailordrunk

For the past many years time has slipped away from me.

The horse beneath me slows; I rode this thing too hard.

Now I wait for the next revolution of the sphere to complete.

I will grasp for the brass ring, and I will take another spin.

I will not be left behind; I want to ride again.


I like words and ideas. Merry-Go-Round as metaphor.

I can count the lines under my eyes and on my forehead.

Faint, but they are there. Fascinating, but humbling.

How I have weathered it all! I want more.