Carousel of Thought

Funny how

Thoughts are like

Classical music, 

(Rou)They go over

a(nd)

Sometimes right

Other times

Down,

Sometimes sight

But more often sound.

Never repeating,

Always fleeting,

But also rhyming,

uncertainly circling

And vanishing and spiraling

And weaving through the air

Settling like dust

Particles

Brought to rest

By gravity

Isn’t it?