Monday, November 7, 2016

Flying Horses

Existential validation often arrives hand in hand with every day life. And, there are also the simple loving memories of Martha's Vineyard vacations with my Christine. 


Flying Horses

I like it,
  I’ll keep it,
Well not IT, there’s only one, and they’ll need itback for the next round,
  but the free ticket they gave me!
I wanted to, and framed it,
  to show my grandchildren

"Hon, what are they doing?"
"They’re reaching for rings. If you get the brass ring, you get a free ride,"

We mounted our steeds,
  ‘hundred plus year old wooden horses, glass eyed,
  horse hair manes, and tails, fancy old paint,

"Once some guy got upset, and getting off he kicked one of the horses,
  can you imagine, kicking one of these precious old horses?"

The gate bell rang,
  and we ran to the carnival organ,
Kids ahead reached out,
Some tried hooking a ring on each finger, to grab at more than one,
So did I, pinky, ring, middle, index,
  all were tin and I cast them in the box

Come around again, I lean out, hold on, balance
  pinky, ring, middle, index,
Four more in the box

She said "They’re getting near the end of the song,"
  and, "Sometimes they have to refill the rings,"

Pinky, ring, middle, index,
 again

She said, "We’re stopping, I didn’t see, did anybody pull the ring?"
  "Hon, hon, look!"
  "Where?"
I pointed up with my index finger,
  as Michealangelo’s Adam, reaching for God, I said,
  "Hon, hon, look!"

It was near closing, the lines were long, they offered me popcorn,
  "Popcorn, that's so impermanent,"
So that’s what that is,
  and that’s why I’ve kept it, framed on the wall


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