Round,
like a circle in a spiral,
like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning,
on an ever spinning reel
Like a snowball down a mountain,
or a carnival balloon
Like a carousel that's turning,
running rings around the moon
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping past the minutes of its face
And the world is like an apple,
whirling silently in space
Like the circles
that you find
in the windmills of your mind
Like a tunnel that you follow,
to a tunnel of its own
Down a hollow to a cavern,
where the sun has never shone
Like a door that keeps revolving in a half forgotten dream
Or the ripples from a pebble someone tosses in a stream
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping past the minutes of its face
And the world is like an apple,
whirling silently in space
Like the circles
that you find in the windmills of your mind
Keys that jingle in your pocket,
words that jangle in your head
Why did summer go so quickly,
was it something that you said?
Lovers walk along the shore,
and leave their footprints in the sand
Just in drumming,
just the fingers of your hand
Pictures hanging in a hallway,
and the fragment of a song
Half remembered names and faces,
but to whom do they belong?
Like
a circle in a spiral,
like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning,
on an ever spinning reel
As the
images unwind,
like the circles that you find