Sinking,
Under recesses,
To discover
The crevices,
Of Time-
Seen
In rusted "pieces"
Of Tattered Playgrounds,
From long ago.

The Merry-Go-Round
Turned Round',
Again-
And again...

We can never
Rewind the tape,
Just remember it.

Tire Graveyards,
And Landfills
Of broken-down
By-products,
Of our Being.

Confetti Cream,
And
"Stories to Convince,"
Created Daily,
But true words
Live forever.