by Amy Covel
There I was, going around in circles.
My companions run beside me to the tune that has become our source of life. Without it, we are still. Without it, there are no smiling faces.
The conductor has brought us to life. We bear upon our backs the smiling faces who chose us among our companions.
I want the music to stop, but I do not want to be still.
I want to run, but I do not want to be bound by this metal bar, my only support.
If only my feet could touch the ground, if only my legs could move, then I could run far away.
Then I could get somewhere.
The smiling face on my back has a tune of its own. I want to understand it. I want to run to it instead.
When the conductor’s music stops, the smiling face leaves me.
Take me with you.
I plead, but it does not understand me any more than I understand it.
I lose track of the days. I lose track of the many smiling faces I have seen.
Even the conductor changes.
Only the tune is the same. That, and my companions.
The smiling face returns. It is different, more like the conductor now. It has little smiling faces with it.
You came back.
Its smile deepens, and I am happy to go in circles again for it and for its little smiling faces.
Maybe this time. . .
The music shatters mid-tune. The conductor runs here and there to bring the music back. We keep going in our circles.
We keep running.
Keep running.
The smiling face encourages me.
Go on. Go on.
It seems to say.
You’re almost there.
A loud crack breaks the silence. My support is breaking.
Will I be able to run?
Run.
It seems to whisper into my ear.
I want to run.
The bar breaks and my feet touch the ground, but I do not crumble like my support. The smiling face has me around the neck. The little ones cling to my back, encouraging me.
I hear their tune.
Let’s run.
They say.
I move my legs and leap.
You’re free.
They say.
I run.
I leave the merry-go-round far behind.
Category: Poetry, SNHU Creative Writing, SNHU online creative writing, SNHU Student