Ferris wheel at Treasure Island Music Festival (creative commons)

by JDA

In order to understand the world you cannot be part of it.

The nape of a woman’s neck, though beautiful, is not the full of her.

The need to know, to understand the wholeness of things,

moves you backwards for clarity and definition.

Her soft hand gesture, a tree bending in November wind

as scudding dark clouds shred the sky,

another step backwards and half-turn to the right,

the ferris wheel rotates in multicolored brilliance

as tired children blow little, red, plastic horns in musical accompaniment.

Step backwards and look skyward through sausage and pepper steam

and a tiny star looks down on you quietly, maternally

a temporary mooring for your lonely boat.

[image note: Ferris wheel at Treasure Island Music Festival (creative commons)]