April Michelle Wolverton
In Refrain - Poem by April Michelle Wolverton
Curses, the Assailant does bereave,
slandering the resonance of sound
that will only disordinate the glass.
fraught with unrest-
'quick is, quick is, quick is, quick, '
that treacherous Spindle's sermon persists,
undulating in deafness,
crannied by the whoosh-whish
of the Wheel.
this cheek remains
needless in its take, and limp
in its opposition.
Alas, this Spirit humbles,
and ceases to parry,
now, 'circle, circle, circle...'
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