Oh dear, there are gears
in between my ears.
They grind everyday.
I remind myself
that my own gears
need no help to turn
or to burn. Sometimes,
I can hear my gears
grind away. Sometimes,
I can feel the steel
become hot. I am
surprised smoke is not
coming from my eyes.
These gears turn . I don’t
have any concerns.
They will always turn,
no matter the year.
IN YOUR DREAMS POETRY 