The Neighborhood's Merry Go Round Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Growing up through the summations of the body:
Learning how to spell some things,
And buying more gold to adorn us as we go leaping
Like birthday fire,
Like catholic chariots cutting themselves on barbed wire:
And I love you,
Alma: and I love you dear, with the cars of our neighborhoods
Making their peace mill excursions
Even after the flea markets have shut down, and the brown
Séances that happen mid afternoons in them have dispersed:
And families all across the wetted tip of this peninsula
Are home and so contented they don’t even try to cipher
Tomorrow’s weather:
And it happens that the shadows that get up and come down
Through the exhausted but amusings in the ululations of
This neighborhood’s merry go round.