remembering Santa Monica Pier or reaching for the brass ring

there were homemade
potato chips
benches to read on
a sea breeze
my dog asleep
at my feet
that beautiful carousel
and the promise
of a brass ring
a hand outstretched
across what was
a lifetime
and you
and happiness
just out of reach
and me
riding a wooden horse
up and down
around
through eternity

 

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