Thinking, thinking –
I’m filled with thoughts
bubbling up – secretly.
They find me – hiding – under tables
smiling, at nothing, much.
They find me – posed – ready to jump
in to my bowl of cereal
to morosely float on a slice of
They control my spoon
Swirl and twirl – on banana.
As I spin, I catch glimpses
Of what could be – each whirl of
milk shows another possibility.
I lack the capacity to choose –
caught - as I am in the tumble.