The Ferris Wheel

you liked the chase—I thought I knew that best—

but it didn't matter as much back then

when I knew your each wayward east and west,

hoping you'd never find new love again.

*

at July's carnival you liked the rides—

the Tilt-a-Whirl, the Sizzler, the Zipper—

but my love was the Ferris wheel's spin-tides

like they were Cinderella's glass slipper.

*

the fairy tale was mine ever to lose—

since you'd be gone back off away to school—

but I loved being, living, in your shoes

because you were another story's fuel.

*

the wheel was not one of fortune's light touch,

but yours was a name I would ever clutch.