Reaching the Top of an Endless Cycle

Into the suspended cart, painted in
Bright oranges and reds.
‘The Sun Wheel’
is what the sign said.

It sways under my foot,
and continues to sway as the
mechanical wheel rotates a notch
to fill the next cart in line.
It seems as if it’s taking forever
to reach the top,
but I can wait.

As I move up, I am at eyelevel
with all the games and kiddy rides
at the carnival. I can see into the booth
for ‘The World’s Smallest Horse’,
and the winking of the lights
on the Strongman tower,
As a boy tries to prove his worth
With a heavy rubber mallet.

This is the only ride I used to come for.
When I would peer out over the edge
of the bright cart, I could see the entirety
of the city I loved. All of the streets
I had yet to drive down, all of the things left to do.
All twelve tickets that I bought
were going to be handed over to the
gruff man behind the gate. The same gate
that is now growing continuously
smaller below me.

When I finally reach the top, I look over the edge,
my fingers gripping the edge of the cart.
the red cart tilting to accommodate.
I look out over the city skyline
and I see nothing.
There is no wind.
The cart remains still.

But I look back at the carnival,
Kids riding the spinning bears,
couples entering the kitschy haunted house,
and girls pretending to be scared.
I used to be one of them, when the
Flashing, winking lights of the Strongman tower
Still blinded me as I walked amongst the others,
And heard the calls of:
“Prove your worth, ladies and gents!”
I look back at the vacant skyline
of a city I want to call home,
and I let my remaining eight tickets
flutter into the wind.
It carries them onto the train tracks,
and I hope they find somewhere better.
This metal wheel no longer takes me
Anywhere new.

When the wheel finally returns to the ground,
I step out quickly, and walk past the lights
and out the exit, where I sit on the grass,
waiting for my ride home.