‘Ensō Carousel’ by Partridge Boswell

Ensō Carousel

…draw a new circle —Ralph Waldo Emerson

One whirl, all music and bright color, wild horses and laughter
rutting a black circle, imperfect as π to a thousand reams of paper.
 
Over / under alternate faster until they blur into one current
and you ride the dun mare through a burning ring of gold.
 
In this life the most you can hope for is one or two friends
who won’t mind if you love them. One or two durable
 
songs you never tire of singing and, for reasons unclear,
others never tire of hearing. One or two days drenched
 
with sun and rain that shouldn’t but somehow add up
to a persistent glow you have no word for but aoibhneas.
 
One or two memories that haunt you like blue veins
of light you assumed were best bled and forgotten
 
yet deepen and feed you as they darken. One or two
songbirds you never see hidden inside the magnolia
 
who insist you name them according to their music.
One or two words of advice shirked long ago you’re now
 
dying to impart to any fool who will listen. One or two
obsessions that burn in the distance—sacramental flames
 
of your next life. One or two lives crystalized into the salt
you needed to taste the one you’re living. The most you
 
can hope for is one or two gifts disguised as strangers
who arrive well past midnight, who wake tomorrow
 
to bright canopies of wind-kissed light, see you dancing
in the highest branches, and decide to stay for breakfast.




Author of the 2024 Fool for Poetry Prize-winning chapbook Levis Corner House and Grolier Poetry Prize-winning collection Some Far Country, Partridge Boswell is co-founder of Bookstock Literary Festival and troubadours widely with the bard band Los Lorcas.