This circle holding the afternoon sky is a lake
For summer business measured in stacked pairs
Of peeling oars whose dinghies all ship water.
Beside it on the trampled grass a carrousel shakes
And turns on an Old World instrument
The plink and plank and tinkle of a tune
Of plunging horses in fresh habiliment.
We catch the reins of enamel Pegasus
And lift the child until she is astride
A purple beast, where, wrapping infant arms
About his neck of wood, she whirls in space
And gallops off upon the turning wheel.
The horse climbs steadily the silver pole
Where cherubs hang, then slides toward spinning earth;
She sees the moving heaven of winged babes;
Rising to meet them, rising, she returns
To where our faces, staring in at hers,
Fixed, while her orbit whirls and sunlight burns,
Recede to artifact as her vision blurs.
Ruth Stone's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Peripheries by Ruth Stone )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
- Cutting Edges Plaguing, Terence G. Craddock
- Curse, MAD DEW
- Nature's Glory, Tirupathi Chandrupatla
- A SECRET, MOHAMMAD SKATI
- Life Image Distortions, Terence G. Craddock
- From Chibok With Love, Adeosun Olamide
- Happy Teacher's Day,2014, India, Dr John Celes
- Established To Accept, Lawrence S. Pertillar
- I Feel So Stupid, Lawrence S. Pertillar
- Thatch and Kilimanjaro, lee fones