the wheel spins
silent
inexorable
cold
re-assuring
a certainty in a haze of doubt
the wheel spins
static
metallic
perfection
reason made real
singular in its purpose
the wheel spins
olfactory emanations
oil and cordite
waft from the friction
begging for contact
I spin the wheel
peace
whirls in my palm
as I watch
wretched
indifferent