I am the fulcrum around which my life rotates,
I hear the rush and shudder as the cogs turn.
Ruddy and metallic, this movement is vital.
Freed limbs rotate, idle thoughts rustle.
It is not easy to be mellow and mindful,
in this untidy world of man and machine.
I may sound smug, but I am no longer gullible.
I will continue to ignore the subliminal messages,
pasted onto the detritus and divinity of my life.
And let the spinning wheels slice the sunshine,
into bite size pieces that I can eat.
Written for Wordle 32 at The Sunday Whirl -