Roundabouts Poem by Dan Brown

I see you sometimes,

in the grip of a stranger -

careering through life, 

dancing beneath his fingers, 

and each time, I freeze -

a rabbit in your headlights.

You’ve gotten done up -

some new shoes and gaudy bling

and the dents I left

all pushed out and smoothed over.

I do wonder, though,

if all the problems beneath

- the whines and the groans, 

the niggles and the grating -

have really been fixed

or if you’ll break down and stall.

Like you did with me.

In the turning of a wheel

we come full circle

- you down your road, me down mine -
passing wordlessly;
we’re closer than you know, in
a roundabout kind of way.