A flame of a maiden

Against the stone, cartwheels were leaning:
like mild cows, with hearts of dandelion green.

All of a sudden, cartwheels became years of tomorrow,
they tumbled to slush.

Of a sudden, wheels everywhere, weird wheels:
well rings of let-down endlessly
spiralling towards the bottom.

And nobody's daughter peeped in there,
a daughter, not-of-her-life, looked, saw the rings,
they brought dear memories.

And a daughter, not-of-herself, touched the wheels:
blood sprayed from the fingers!

The mossy stone slid away
the grass swayed.

Geometric figures filled all--
transfers, projections, scraps,
tricks, shadow graphs, puns.

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