Raymond A. Foss Poems

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She’s riding the merry-go round still
On the outer horse
Holding an old and faded doll
No longer a favorite
But she can’t let go
Filling her free hand
The other to hold herself
On the ride, maintaining her balance

The brass ring,
Waiting motionless/expectantly/hopefully
On the bar by
The spinning ride.
Hoping she will drop
Old toy and reach
Poised within easy grasp.
Each playing their part
Trapped in suspended animation.

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