Pressed against the chair of the swing ride
I’m drifting
The sky’s blue and gold
contort into pixelated shapes of what could be
as the wind carries distant echoes
I close my eyes, completely
immersed
In my retina, one image
dissolves into
another,
a continuous loop …
The sun bleeds and abruptly
awakens my eyes,
I begin to taste a tinge of rust
and gold in my tongue,
the cold of the metal seeping
through my skin,
and now
I remember I am
in the swing ride.
But the swinging
soon
slows
down
An indication of its
finality,
So I foretaste my next ride …
Aleksia Barka MS1 at the Perelman School of Medicine.
Image by Phoebe Cunningham, an MS2 at the Perelman School of Medicine.
