The Roller Coaster
The roller coaster leans
into a sky the color death.
Alongside pines, it winds its broken way,
gripping earth’s gray stubble.
In the moan of the wind,
I conjure up the screams of children’s glee.
For the Sijo Contest of Deborah Guenther Beachboard
Now for Brian Strand's 'IMAGIST any form' Poetry Contest
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