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  • Writer's pictureThe Blue and White Magazine

Measure for Measure, May 2014

Updated: Jul 2, 2021

By Hannah Gorman

I. Revolution

I begin to escape it—

The turn of time no,

But the compulsive counting of spokes

January, February, March cease to order my mind like tire treads marking mud

I begin to turn like the wheel

I tentatively touch the axle

Which is still

In transit, even quiet transit

Even so it moves— maybe forward

II. Motion

A different feeling stirring

I hear the planks creaking, adjusting to the humidity,

Settling in for the long voyage

My breath comes slow and lapping and every hour I sigh once

Like the bell that means the watch is changing

And it is hard to believe my life is twisting into knots

At the magnetism of some foreign body


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