Thursday, March 8, 2012


Old children

I know where the carnival mounts
And merry-go-round animals
- Some of them -
have gone,
and the teeter-totter
saddled goats
and snails, too.

And some of the dwarves
And gnomes
And their cousins
The munchkins:

They’re out to pasture
No longer to withstand
The clamors of screaming
Children grabbing at their
Wooden or fiber glass
Horns and manes

I’ve seen them.
Their smoothened bars
For handles
Years behind them
Likewise their rusting springs
For former leapings 
Now at rest

But their mad grins
Still transfixed
Crazed eyes
Still bulging

And the colors
In any suburban play
Grounds or fairs

Chipped, delaminated,
Cleaned in their retirement
Pastures only when it rains -
These still multi-colored

Capture imaginations even now
Of passing children
Walking through the tall
Grass or up on a porch
I know about.

Old children sometimes
sit on the calmer adventures
and are happy.