The world is wrong, bent on its axle
_  lt
___ ed
Like a broken ballerina
Leaning, askew
The music stretched out
Groaning slow to silence
A carnival shutting down.
The light is gone, where did it go?
“You can’t shut off the sun,”
I remind the Owner.
But, apparently, it can short-circuit,
Flicker, and then die.
I didn’t know.
A carnival is a joy while running,
All gladsome music, rushing thrill,
And cotton-candied sweetness.
Though the carousel
Has its        and
The ride keeps spinning on.
But it is a sickly place,
All vacant seats. All halted life.
Since the sun went out.
And even if,
Even when,
I could get it back running,
It would not be the same
Without the light.
All dark shadows on painted faces,
Grins turned grimaces,
Love turned to leering,
Regret-rusted rides.
It is a sad and grinding thing,
My heart, my world.
Wasn’t I clear before?
You were my sunshine.

– s. Clark