during the morning's scheduled regular order

I'm reminded of an old song;

one that enters one's brain and

circles ‘round and ‘round and

doesn’t stop spinning even when

you introduce another tune into

your consciousness to take its place,

–– but it drops by the wayside instead.

during the early years, Rosanne D'Spirito

fell from the spinning merry-go-round

in the little, cracked tar-smeared park,

and those of us who didn’t fall, spun on

in our happiness passing her as she

struggled to recover her equilibrium 

in an almost freeze-frame event.

there she is! there she goes! there she is again!

as the old song fades in the distance

replaced by Rosanne D'Spirito,

angel of the bleeding knees, readying herself

to latch-on to the first appropriate handlebar

in order to hop aboard to spin again,

damn the bleeding knees!

‘round and ‘round and ‘round and ‘round

spinning through my aching head, and this

during the morning's scheduled regular order.