Circulo Quebrado

His sacred circle cast him out

without a backwards glance.

His hosts no longer let him in

to share their circumstance.

 

 A friendship marble hit a spoke

and broke away discretely.

 A  roulette wheel flung out the ball,

A gamble lost completely.

 

He used to dance on mirrored floors

with serpentine shapes mapping

a snake dance through revolving doors,

friends drumming feet were tapping.

 

Now wholeness is no longer his.

The group cliqued shut without him.

Spiders spin in unity,

a web outside his rhythm.

 

A bandage will not wrap the wound,

absorb each wine-like drop.

The great Mandela rolls along.

Its carousel can’t stop.

Image

~ by dianeklammer on March 20, 2013.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s