CIRCLING #poem

Moving out from the center.
Not just circles, fields of play,
unconscious art outlined in grains,
in Earth outcroppings.
Color, texture, depth and hillocks
to delineate geography over millennia.
Too long, too high, too overarching a view.
Inside, incremental gains, slow glimmers
simmer. We want our feast NOW!
Ready, so surely ready to shout in unison.
Spinning in separate circles.
Toes in, arms akimbo stiffened to protect.
Moving in different rhythms to different visions.
Bumping, bruising, rousing demons.