Some moonwalk backwards past.
Some slow-motion steer.
Some upwards beanstalk mast.
Some downhill rabbit hole disappear.
Some hand in hand.
Some distant one-man elastic band.
Some three-legged race.
Some astronaut-float through space.
Some in 14th century rags.
Some in 1789 attire.
Some in birthday suit bags.
Some with hair on fire.
Meanwhile as I sit and sip,
the rusty wind-up toy cafe box spins.
Teacup saucer tables on springs:
me with magic roundabout zebedee eyes
watching dougal-walking brians,
florences and dylans
greeting goodbyes
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Author: aprettykettleofpoetry
