Life Cycle

When she said her life
Was a cycle, I didn't
Know what she meant.
But now, as I sit here,
Spinning round and round,
I can begin to picture it:

Cycle one: I see a face, made pale by fear.

Cycle two: Every fruit has rotted and fallen close to its tree.

Cycle three: The clock strikes my hour and its two hands clench into fists.

Cycle four: All the ink in the world rains like water from the sky.

Cycle five: I am hurled into the gray sunset by the mary-
Go-round's most mean-spirited horse.