Passing youth

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Afternoons carousel by

In circles, high, then low

And I slide

past the child on a white champion stallion

With pink and purple ceramic ribbons streaming beneath my hands

I stop before the watchful mother with her arms protecting

on either side of an unsteady daughter

Making sure there are no falls

Between the future and the past

Still staring

And the turning mirror

Of changing me

Old and young

With the golden spires that spear the horses moving

Moving up and down.

I am still staring

At a painting of kings, queens and quests regally splashed through the spine of this

This casual whirligig

The mall clamors around me

the buying and selling of existence

Carries on

While I’m spinning

Going nowhere

Being somewhere

Hearing a comforting tune

That tells me I’m in a magical safe place.

I don’t want out.

I know I can’t stay.

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