In 1922 they named this carousel
for Jane. Jane of the 1200 lights
so I can find you, because I drift
and stagger. I skim and soldier
these city streets to get to you.
And I am always trying to get
to you it seems. Your wild horse
named inside me. Your mane so
soft against my cheek. Have I
at all restored you? The flush
of calliope calling the wind
for you to race. What do
you remember now, bit clenched
and mouth embraced. I chose
you every time. Like a child believes
in magic. Like we would fly from
the weave and strain of the constant
circle. Hearts always gallop, but mine
gasped in awe. What I saw there
in you. 1200 lights. Enamored.
Jen Rouse is the Director of the Center for Teaching and Learning at Cornell College. Her poems have appeared in Poetry, Cleaver, Always Crashing, Mississippi Review, and elsewhere. Headmistress Press has published her books Acid and Tender, CAKE, and Riding with Anne Sexton. Find her on Twitter @jrouse.