they spin like dizzy children on a school day but without the reassuring chime that ushers them into four solid, safe walls. instead, tired, little things, keep spinning spinning spinning... until they wake up out of bounds, beyond the Gate and behind the waist high brick planters filled with the colors of a burnt-brown rainbow. I am there too. reaching for their sweaty hands and picking at their pockets for the chalky white tablets that help to medicate our flow of Time.
© Audrey Rosengreen, 2018