The supposedly old and the apparently new, madly, blindly chasing each other, hate in each heart screeching death to the other, are chipmunks circling the trunk of a tree around and around and around and around till the two merge in one dizzy streak of a band, like a pin-wheel afire with rope-skipping flame come to what looks like a stop. But let the band stretch, the band snap? -- we have the rondo all over again! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THREE SILENCES IN THAILAND by KAREN SWENSON OZYMANDIAS REVISITED by MORRIS GILBERT BISHOP SING-SONG; A NURSERY RHYME BOOK: 48 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI OF AN ORCHARD by KATHARINE TYNAN ALAS! by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS |