In A Merry Go Round Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Graveyard bright, ruby graveyard
Right underneath the graveyard busses- there you
Are
While the terrapin leaps
While the terrapin runs they don’t seem to be
Doing anything
But they seem to be having fun: underneath the
Uneasiness of that trespassing
Until the hallways fills:
And, yes, they fill, until they turn around
Burning up:
And the buses turn around, culling up from the
Earliest moments above the ground
They come up and up again, just as rain on her
Cheeks
They come up again, and they have a special
Spell over their meaning
And they come over once again
Rounding the earth, and kissing her kin
And round, and kissing in a merry go round
The earth again and again