Concentric circles

All around

In the air

And on the ground

They have me leaping

Here and there

Nowhere safe

Should I care

My drink it sits upon the bar

Next to the eyes

Within the jar

No, pickles must be what I see

Have I been drugged

Oh yes, clearly

So if I must endure this dream

A spirograph I choose to be

5 thoughts on “SPIROGRAPH… a poem

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