When you pass close, you see light dancing, reflections of the carousel. One horse then another all spangles, ribbons, and dappled pastels. Under the bigtop each horse in fine baubles. All of them march around without question, carrying uncomplaining babies on their backs; going nowhere round in circles, just in circles. Grandfathers alongside toddlers in new strollers light from the mirrors on stubbleface eyes - old as the carousel - gathered on benches. Their thoughts dark as rosary beads black from long use. "I am not afraid to die; so, I may just live forever. I am a carousel horse"
"Carousel In The Park" penned by John Horvath Jr - Posted Friday, December 12, 2003.
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