Everyone joins the merry go round at some point.
Feeling safe and secure, as the next turn whips
around the carousel cutting against chilled breezes.
The years spin astray, night and day telling their own story.
Seems like a good deal, but it doesn’t come with its own bread and butter.
At best, we try to connect with one another; building sentence upon sentence, spelling out our own history.
Written for the Sunday Whirl: Wordle 231