Wheel

I used to believe
in the sanctity of lines
continuous
inviolable
unending

Cars on highways
always seemed to have
delineated trajectories
yellow boundaries meant safety
and once I wondered about
the mysteries that lay
in hiking trails shrouded in foliage
relieved still to know
beginning, middle and end

The way multicolored plastic pieces
were moved in children's games
according to rules
printed on inserts
inside worn cardboard boxes

The steps of a ballet dance
we performed at a recital
choreographed and practiced
in pink candy tutus

One day a face
I had seen before
in a place that existed in memory
the lyrics of a song
whose tune played in recesses
the volume low
yet still the voice
recognizable

I felt the rain
and it was the same
morning glories
September and
the smell of books

I lay down my shield
abandon my shelter
and now
I believe in circles