Carousel
by Carol Iaciofano
Carol Iaciofano

Carol Iaciofano writes op-eds and book reviews for publications including The Boston Globe and The Boston Herald. Her most recent op-ed was an appreciation of Steve Jobs: his impact on liberal arts majors.

It's all preparation for leaving.
You never really forget this.

That bright summer day at Watch Hill, the two of you
riding The Flying Horse Carousel,
the oldest carousel in the country—

      —my grandmother rode these horses,
      my grandparents watched my father ride them,
      and I waved to my parents from them

      that first time flying solo,
      arms and legs glittery with beach sand,
      mommy and daddy mere silhouettes
      in sunlight that bounced off the waves
      and pierced the cool shade
      once every turn—

Round and round.

You wave as you come near
mom and dad, secure at the same point,
and you smile and go away
and make scary faces (a quick conspiracy)
as you come round again.

We are still here.

In the open air the calliope music
and the most basic clichés
make me catch my breath.

Toddlers on horses whirl past
the high school girl who
keeps reloading brass rings
so everyone has a chance.

Around and around
you cheerfully ride away
and laughing
come round again.

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