ENC1101

Memory poem

Swinging, Flinging, Dinging

Round and round,

Losing track of the sound.
Pictures fixured in like scripture.
Swinging, flinging,
Minutes before others would be singing.
Whirling, twirling, fingers are curling.
Back and forth,
Quickly going off course.
Yaw flaw they never saw.
Crack, thwack, smack, wrack
Stopped them right in their tracks.
Bled red, dread fled, leaving their heads.
All is well,
With a little gel.
Damage managed by bandage.

10/20/14
Joe Cary