These wheels are fast.
Beneath my feet the pavement slides away,
A table cloht jerked from under glass.
Wobbling, on unbalanced legs.
When the world blurs past in a stream,
And you wonder how and what it means,
You're racing past faces and leaving them
Behind.
The wheels roll on, an everturning circle.
I hold your arms and then your hands and then your fingers...
